


Pour Me A Heavy Dose Of Atmosphere

by CapedCommissioner (smittenbritain)



Category: DCU (Comics)
Genre: Background Bruce Wayne/Jim Gordon, Dick and Hal are both in their late 20s, Long-Distance Relationship, M/M, Mutual Pining, On-Again/Off-Again Relationship, Sex
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-11-27
Updated: 2020-12-23
Packaged: 2021-03-10 06:13:27
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 6
Words: 65,516
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/27739729
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/smittenbritain/pseuds/CapedCommissioner
Summary: The arrangement is simple: ask for dinner to get a date, ask for drinks to just hang out as friends. With Hal leaving for Oa so frequently, it doesn't leave much room for anything else, and Dick is fine with that - in theory, anyway.The thing is, the heart wants what it wants, and no amount of distance is going to stop either of them from pining.
Relationships: Dick Grayson/Hal Jordan
Comments: 8
Kudos: 37





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

> So this has been mostly complete since... August? Which was when I was also getting into DC, so while I've edited this, if any details about the Batfamily or the Lanterns seem wonky, that'll be why! This fic is fully complete, though, and will be updating weekly until it's done.
> 
> Also, Hal and Dick are both in their late 20s - Dick at about 27, Hal at around 29, roughly. The way my timeline works out is that it's probably Tim as Robin when Hal first joins the Justice League; Dick and Hal know of each other as superheroes, but haven't met beyond passing moments and good conversations here and there.
> 
> Incest shippers do not interact. (Comments are now moderated since people didn't respect this! If you don't ship incest, comment whatever you want and it'll be approved. Comments by incest shippers will be rejected. Slightly more info on this in the end notes.)

“If there aren’t any questions, that concludes the meeting.”

A murmur of negatives rippled throughout the room, and Clark nodded at the head of the room, satisfied. He turned to speak to Bruce and Diana next to him; it was a clear dismissal, and the gathered members of the full Justice League - not just the usual few - dissolved into chatter. Dick watched out of the corner of his eye as Damian slunk off to the side to join the Teen Titans, no doubt eager to escape his brother for a while, and when he looked up, he saw that Bruce was already lost in conversation, and likely would be for some time. It was usually the case when he got talking with Clark. 

Dick leaned back in his chair, arms loosely folded, as he scanned the room. It really was full today. He knew that the core Justice League had their own smaller meeting room, but it didn’t compare to this one; rather than have one central table, groups occupied the smaller ones, gathering in their usual teams, unless there were other ties in place. Dick had no doubt that Damian would have chosen the Titans’ table in a heartbeat if it hadn’t been for the much emptier one Dick had chosen. If Batman wasn’t needed up front, he would be with them too, but that wasn’t often. 

That left Dick on his own. Nightwing fell neatly under the Batman category as far as the rest of the Justice League was concerned. He knew others here, of course, but most of the time he’d just gravitate towards Damian or hang out until they could leave. 

There were a few others his age, of course - there used to be  _ his _ Titans, but they were scattered across the Earth these days, and not so involved with others. The League wasn’t just either adults over thirty or teens, though. It didn’t take long to spot the table of the others in their mid twenties; they were a more raucous bunch, though maybe that was just because Hal and Barry were amongst them. A few others were at their table, mostly just some other Lanterns, though Dick didn’t really know anyone beyond Hal, and even then it was pretty much just a first name basis.

He  _ did _ know that Hal was funny, though, and wouldn’t turn him away if he joined in.

With one last glance towards his little brother, Dick made his way across the room. The group seemed to be naturally breaking off a little as he approached - Barry zipped away, and some of the Lanterns settled into their own quieter conversation. It left Hal sitting not quite by himself, but he was certainly alone at the table, especially with empty seats on either side of him now that Barry was gone.

He looked up when Dick approached. “Hey, Nightwing,” he said, offering a bright smile. “What’s up?”

“Just waiting on Batman and Robin.” Dick shrugged. “Mind if I join you?”

Dick couldn’t tell if he was imagining it, but he thought Hal’s smile changed somehow. Still delighted and cheerful - when wasn’t he? Everyone knew Hal was one of the jokers of the League - but it was somehow softer. To his surprise, it made Dick’s heart stutter in his chest. Somehow, that smile was even more attractive than the winning one Hal seemed to toss out automatically when someone called his name. 

Hal was handsome, there was no denying that. Even with the partial mask, Dick knew it, but he  _ had _ also seen him without it once at one of the rare League parties. Dick hadn’t really thought about it much beyond appreciating the view that one time.

Now, though…

“Be my guest,” Hal said, gesturing towards one of the empty seats. Dick sat. “I didn’t know Batman would drag you all the way out here, too. What about the others?”

“They didn’t want to come.” It was more of a case of Jason refusing and Tim separating himself a little, but Dick wasn’t about to say that when his brothers weren’t here to defend themselves. “Robin pretty much has to, though, and I figured I’d tag along.” He liked seeing everyone and getting the information firsthand whenever Clark decided to pull one of these big meetings. Sure, he could wait for Bruce to filter it back to him when he got back to Earth, but it was always better straight from the source.

That, and he could see  _ space _ outside the giant windows. That alone was worth the trip.

Dick nodded towards the front of the room. It was empty now - Clark, Bruce, and Diana had all taken their seats to continue chatting. “Why aren’t you ever up there? You’re core Justice League.”

“I’m not the best public speaker,” Hal said, cracking a grin as he gestured at himself. “If you asked Superman, he’d probably say I  _ ‘don’t stay on track’  _ like those three do. It’s the same reason why Flash doesn’t do it.” It was clearly something he’d heard before, but Hal didn’t seem to mind. “People listen to them. Me? Not so much.”

Hal’s smile was infectious. Dick felt the corners of his lips pulling upwards without his permission. “I think you’re pretty good to listen to,” he said. 

The words rolled out of him before he even noticed the flirty tone to them. Thankfully, Hal didn’t leave him time to regret it; he cocked an eyebrow, seeming pleasantly surprised, but it quickly smoothed over again. “Well, then it’s a shame we don’t run into each other more often, because I think you’re pretty good to listen to, too.”

Hal considered him for a moment, as if trying to weigh up something in his mind. Dick could almost hear the cogs turning in his head from where he sat. He didn’t want to rush and make any assumptions, but if that one line had been well received...

“Nightwing.”

A familiar, gruff voice shattered the little bubble he’d formed with Hal. Dick glanced over his shoulder to see Bruce standing a short distance away, Damian at his side. Bruce tilted his head towards the main door, the one that led back to the teleporters, and Dick tried not to grimace.

“Just a sec, Batman,” he said, waving him off. He turned back to Hal with a sigh. “That’s my cue. Thanks for hanging out with me, even though it was for only, like, five minutes.”

“Hey, anytime. Actually…” Dick watched as Hal hesitated, and then ploughed ahead. “How about I give you my number? Next time I’m on Earth, give me a call.” This time, his smile was genuine again, and Dick’s stomach felt like it did when he was twirling through the air in a backflip. “Maybe we can get dinner.”

Credit to Hal where it was due: Dick had not planned on making any actual moves, mostly because he was unsure if it was  _ that _ mutual. Hal was handsome and funny, definitely Dick’s type if he thought about it, but it hadn’t occurred to him to actually try. 

He grinned. “Sure.”

Hal grabbed a notepad from the table - someone had decided it was a good idea to lay out pens and paper for any notetaking, and Dick was willing to bet it was Bruce - and he scribbled at it quickly. “Here,” he said, offering it to Dick. “It only works when I’m here or on Earth, but… give me a call?”

Dick folded the paper into a neat square and tucked it into a little slot in his gauntlet. “I’ll text you when I’m back so you have my number, too.” As he stood, Dick lingered for just a moment longer, even though he could feel both Bruce and Damian staring holes into the back of his suit. “Any idea when you’re visiting next?”

“Should be in a week or so.” Hal’s gaze just didn’t seem to leave Dick’s. There was already something fond in his expression if Dick looked close enough; it was hidden in the curve of his smile and the warmth behind the mask. “I’ll let you know before I head out of here today.” 

Adjusting his gauntlet again - Dick really, really didn’t want to lose that number and have to ask Bruce for it instead - he shot Hal a sly look. “Sounds like a date.”

Hal laughed, warm and open, and Dick’s heart jumped up into his throat. “Wow, way to be cliché. It’s a date, Nightwing.” The teasing just made Dick grin. If they were already getting along so well, then he couldn’t wait for an actual date away from the prying eyes of other heroes. “I’ll let you pick the place.”

“I’m sure I can figure something out before you come back to Earth,” he said. Reluctantly, Dick glanced back at his family. Bruce was still staring, and Damian had his arms folded. “I’d better get going before he drags me out of here. See you soon, Lantern.”

Hal gave him a lazy salute, but that same gentleness was still there in his features. It was so heartbreakingly sweet already that Dick barely knew what to do with it. “See you soon, Nightwing. Have a safe trip.”

Dick waved over his shoulder as he caught up with Bruce and Damian. He fell into step beside him, matching his pace as easily as breathing. After so many years of working together, Dick didn’t even have to think about it anymore. This time, though, there was a spring in his step; he felt himself being buoyed up by the thought of the date waiting for him, despite the fact that he really didn’t want anyone knowing about it just yet, not while it was still so early. He didn’t need to accidentally unleash Bruce on Hal.

“What’s the rush?” he asked. The doors before them slid open on their own, and Bruce led the way down the corridor towards the teleporter. “I thought you’d be busy for a little longer.”

Bruce hummed. “There wasn’t much to discuss.” He turned to glance at Dick. “You seem… chipper.”

“Just happy to be going home,” Dick said easily, skirting the truth. He  _ was _ happy to be going home - the Watchtower was cool, but he much preferred Gotham. 

Damian fell back a step, just so he could peer at Dick around Bruce’s cape. “You were spending an awful lot of time with Green Lantern, Richard.”

Dick could  _ kill _ him.

“It was nice to see everyone,” Dick said, desperately trying to dodge the conversation again. “Besides, you had the Titans, Bruce had Superman and Wonder Woman. Who else was I gonna hang out with?”

Damian looked like he wanted to say something else, but he kept his mouth closed as they stepped onto the teleporter’s pad. Good. Dick didn’t need to be exposed before the first date because his little brother decided to be an ass. Thankfully, Bruce also let it go, treating Dick’s question as rhetorical so he could tap in their home coordinates. 

He could still feel the weight of Damian’s frown as Bruce came to stand between them again, and he chose to ignore it.

* * *

True to his word, Dick texted Hal as soon as he got a minute alone back at the manor. He spent too long agonising over it as he put away the Nightwing suit, and all the way through his shower, too. Eventually, he settled on something far too simple for the amount of time and thought he’d put into it.

_ Hey, Hal, it’s Dick.  _

The reply wasn’t immediate, and that was fine. Hal was Green Lantern, after all; like the other core Justice League members, he tended to be a little busier than the rest of them,  _ and _ he had the Lantern Corps to deal with. In hindsight, Dick wondered if he had really thought about what he was getting into when he agreed to go to dinner with Hal.

His phone buzzed in his pocket during dinner. There were no strict rules in the Wayne household about phones at the table, but Dick knew he was asking for trouble if he checked it here. Knowing his brothers, someone would take a peek and delightedly crow about the results, all while ignoring Bruce’s reminder about privacy and Dick’s inevitable embarrassed staring. So, while his fingers twitched around his knife and fork, he restrained himself, and he waited until he could make the excuse of going to bed early before he opened the text.

_ Hey, Dick. I’ll text you when I’m back on Earth - about to head out, so sorry in advance if you can’t reply. I’m gonna go ahead and assume you’ve already picked a place for dinner. _

Dick laughed quietly to himself. He hadn’t, in fact, chosen where to take Hal for their date, but he did have a few ideas. None of them were fancy; Hal didn’t seem like that type of guy, and that was more than fine with him. 

Casual and fun was more his kind of date anyway.

* * *

Dick didn’t deliberately keep count of how long it was until Hal called. Time passed in a mixture of patrols at night and, occasionally, wrangling his younger brothers. Said wrangling included, but was not limited to: asking Damian to use the gym instead of the chandeliers, pleading with Jason to walk the dog  _ just this once, _ and then  _ reminding _ Damian to leave the chandeliers alone  _ before _ Bruce saw him at it. He really didn’t know how the kid had the energy after patrolling with Bruce all night, and he wished he knew why Jason refused to make anyone’s lives just a bit easier.

Tim, somehow, was actually reasonable most of the time. Dick really needed to thank him for that.

Because of their antics the night before - because most of that wrangling really had just been the previous day, on top of sweeping Gotham himself - Dick had firmly decided that he deserved to lounge in bed for a little longer as a rare treat. He heard his ringtone in the far distance of his sleepy mind, somewhere beyond the squishy pillow under his cheek. 

It took a few rings before he dragged himself closer to the bedside table to see who was disturbing him. 

_ Hal. _

His heart jumped. He had almost  _ missed _ the one call he’d actively been waiting for.

Dick swiped his thumb across the screen to accept it, already grinning. “Hey.”

_ “Hey,”  _ Hal laughed. _ “I almost thought you weren’t gonna pick up.” _

“Are you kidding? I’m desperate to get out of the house.” Dick propped himself up against the pillows and was about to put Hal on speaker when he paused, thumb hovering over the button. The last thing he needed was someone bursting in on this call. Instead, Dick settled back and continued to hold the phone against his ear. “I’ve got everything planned out.”

_ “Was I right? Did you have it figured out by the time you got home?” _

“Not exactly,” Dick said, rolling his eyes. Nerves bubbled up in his chest as he remembered his idea; God, he hoped he hadn’t read Hal  _ completely _ wrong here. “So, here’s the plan, and tell me if I’ve missed the mark on this. I know a great burger place, and there’s a theatre right next to it. I was thinking we could grab something to eat and see a movie.”

There was a sigh on the other end of the phone, and when Hal spoke, Dick could almost hear the smile in his voice.  _ “I would kill for a burger. You know what sucks about space? No burgers. Trust me, I’ve tried looking, and nothing even comes close.” _

“I thought you didn’t need to eat.”

_ “I don’t when I’m wearing the ring, but that doesn’t mean I don’t want a burger.” _

Dick laughed, eyes closed as he just listened to Hal’s answering snicker. God, he was so fucked. “You like burgers, noted.”

_ “You’d better impress me with this place, you know,” _ Hal teased. Dick heard the quiet sounds of everyday life - cupboards opening and closing, a running faucet, the creak of a chair - and he couldn’t help thinking how bizarre it was. Sure, he was a hero too, but Hal just felt like a different calibre; it was odd to hear how  _ human _ he was, despite being one of the handful of humans in the Lantern Corps.  _ “They’d better be good burgers if you want that second date.” _

“That’s what it comes down to? Not my winning personality or good looks?”

_ “Oh, sure, those help, but good food will get you a headstart.” _

Footsteps thundered along the hallway outside Dick’s door, and he winced. Reluctantly, he peeled himself out of bed so he could track down some clothes. It probably wasn’t a great idea to let one of his brothers burst in on him still in bed. “If the burgers fail, there’s always popcorn. How does tomorrow night sound?”

_ “Tomorrow sounds perfect.” _

There was a distant crash. Shit. “I’ll text you the address,” Dick sighed, grabbing yesterday’s jeans from their spot on the floor. “I hate to be that guy when you just got back, but I need to run.”

Hal’s laugh was slow and warm, almost like honey. He glanced at his door, pained.  _ “It’s fine, I’m just resting up after the flight home anyway. I’ll see you tomorrow, Dick.” _

A second crash, this time accompanied by the telltale sound of Jason’s raised voice.

“See you tomorrow,” Dick said. He squeezed his eyes shut as he ended the call, allowing himself just one moment to savour the bubble of excitement, and then he tucked his phone into his pocket and grabbed an abandoned t-shirt. Time to try and stop the argument before it got any worse.

* * *

“So,” Hal said, grinning at Dick over his fries, “how did yesterday go?”

Dick grimaced. “You heard that?”

They were tucked into a corner booth in one of Dick’s favourite little diners. The food was always amazing - Bruce and Jim approved, too; the whole family had been here on multiple occasions after Jim had taken Bruce there for their first date - and the atmosphere was perfect for a chat before their movie. Hal had looked almost comically delighted when their food had arrived, and he’d assured Dick that that alone had been worth the trip back to Earth.

“I heard something smash.” Hal set down his burger and reached for his drink, idly swirling his straw. Ice cubes clinked against the sides of his glass. “So let me guess.... Damian?”

“He was part of it,” Dick admitted. If Hal was going to ask about his brothers, Dick decided he was allowed to steal a fry. Hal didn’t stop him from reaching across the table for one. In fact, a fond little smile tugged on one corner of his mouth, and Dick felt his heart flip in his chest. “He was playing with the dog, something broke, Jason tried to get involved.” He raised an eyebrow. “Talking about my family can’t be great first date conversation.”

Hal winked at him. “Maybe I’m doing recon. And I’ll take a fry back, thanks.”

Dick let him, laughing as he set his chin in his hand. “Recon?”

“Mhm.” Hal swallowed, still looking triumphant about stealing in return. “You know, in case I meet them as Hal Jordan instead of Green Lantern. So far, I think the biggest threat is Damian.”

He probably wasn’t far off there. Damian could be bizarre and protective when he wanted to be, and Dick could easily picture him putting Hal through the wringer. 

“Not Jason?” Dick asked, grinning.

“He’s all bark and no bite.” Hal shrugged it off, and then, pausing, he added, “Probably. Anyway, Bruce is  _ way _ higher on my list of priorities.”

Dick burst into laughter, entirely too amused at the thought of Hal facing Bruce as both his father  _ and _ Batman. Hal snickered along with him, and when his foot bumped against Dick’s under the table, he couldn’t tell if it was deliberate or accidental. It didn’t really matter, not when Hal smiled at him so sweetly.

He didn’t pay attention to the movie. It was some kind of generic action film, deliberately chosen so they didn’t have to follow the plot. Dick tried, but once their empty popcorn bucket was set aside, he was far more focused on the way their fingers laced together on their shared armrest. Hal’s gentle touch had left a blazing trail along Dick’s wrist where he’d clumsily sought out his hand, and when he glanced at him on his left, Hal looked so comfortable, so at ease as he gazed up at the screen, that Dick couldn’t help being distracted from the movie for a beat.

He hadn’t expected to be so far gone for Hal already. It was only their first date -  _ casual and fun, _ he reminded himself,  _ no expectations _ \- but he really, really hoped Hal wanted to go out again.

They had originally met at the diner, but once they left the theatre, Dick decided to walk Hal home. It definitely wouldn’t work the other way around - Dick wasn’t going to risk anyone seeing him with Hal just yet. He  _ did _ want to spend a little more time with Hal, though, if he could get it. 

Plus, Hal didn’t let go of his hand as they started walking, so he figured it was a clear invitation. 

For once, it was a quiet evening in Gotham. Even if Dick strained, he couldn’t hear any police sirens. It was almost like the city had taken the night off with him. Their chatter turned quieter as they walked, more drawn apart and relaxed as the food set in, and that was fine by Dick. It didn’t feel like there was any pressure to keep it up. It was just… nice.

Hal stopped outside a block of apartments. “This is me,” he said.

It was in a nice enough area, not too far away from the manor, really. It would be a bit of a trek on foot, but nothing that Dick hadn’t walked before in his numerous patrols across Gotham as Nightwing. The trip would just be a little bit lonelier without Hal next to him. 

“I didn’t know you had a place here,” Dick said. He turned to face Hal, still keeping their fingers twined together. 

“I need somewhere to crash on Earth, and I figured being near a certain someone would be good backup.” Hal smiled at him. It was that sweet one again, uninfluenced by jokes or a faux cocky attitude. “You sure you don’t mind walking back?”

“It’s fine. Besides, I’m not gonna let you give me a goodnight kiss in front of my entire family.”

Hal raised his eyebrows, humour sparking in his eyes. “Goodnight kiss, huh? That’s pretty optimistic of you.”

“Well,” Dick said, trying and failing to hold back his grin, “you said there’d be a second date if the burgers were good, and I didn’t hear any complaints.”

His pulse thundered in his ears as a hand came up to cup his jaw. Hal’s palm was warm and, to his surprise, Dick couldn’t feel callouses on his fingertips. He knew his own were rough because of all the physical work he did, but he wondered if maybe Hal’s ring protected him from that, too. 

Dick closed his eyes as his lips met Hal’s. He finally dropped his hand, but only so he could snake his arms around his waist instead; his hands seemed to fit against Hal’s hips perfectly, slotting into place like they’d always belonged there. The kiss was short and sweet and perfect, and Dick wished it had lasted ten times longer.

“The burgers had nothing to do with it,” Hal murmured as they parted. His mouth was tilted up at one corner in a little playful smile. “The company sealed the deal.”

That was so ridiculously smooth that Dick almost laughed. Instead, he just smiled, feeling giddy as he stood there with his arms around Hal’s middle. “I’d say you get to plan the second one, but I had another idea in case you hated the diner.”

“I can’t pretend I’m not curious, so go for it.” Hal thumbed at his cheek again, almost fond with the way it brushed against Dick’s skin, and then he let his hand drop with a grin. “I’ll just have to blow you away with the third date to make up for it.”

“You’ve got extra time to plan it, so it had better be good.” Dick took the unspoken signal and let go of him. He already missed Hal’s warmth and the way he just fit so right in his arms. Was it too early to think about how well they slotted together, both physically and in terms of personality? 

Hal winked at him. “I had a lot of time to think when I was out in space.”

They parted ways shortly after. Hal headed inside with a wave, and Dick watched from outside, his hands tucked into his pockets to ward off the ever present Gotham chill. His lips and cheek still tingled from the kiss as he turned away.

He was definitely in too deep already, but he couldn’t bring himself to mind that much.

* * *

Damian landed on the couch next to Dick with a thump. He’d thrown himself carelessly onto it, clutching the TV remote. “Father said it was my turn to choose the evening’s entertainment.”

Jason stared him down from an armchair, scowling at him over his chips. At the moment, it was pretty even odds over whether he’d get up to try and wrestle it off of Damian. “I don’t see B anywhere. We’re not watching a fucking kids’ movie after Dick’s  _ rom-com _ last week.”

“Hey.” Dick frowned. “Bruce is grabbing snacks. And I thought you enjoyed last week’s movie.”

Sniffing, Jason carefully selected a chip from his bowl. “I wasn’t laughing at the  _ jokes, _ Dick.”

“It wasn’t that bad,” Tim said. He was already settled in on Dick’s other side. He’d even found a blanket to wriggle under. “It was funny, I liked it.”

Damian still stared warily at Jason, holding the remote for dear life. “Children’s films are far too patronising. Regardless, it’s my turn. It’s the  _ rule, _ Jason.”

There was chatter from the hallway, and Jason went quiet with another grumble. Bruce and Jim came to join them, carrying a selection of both salty and sweet snacks that they laid down on the coffee table. Even Alfred joined them for their film nights, taking up the last empty armchair as he settled in. As Jim and Bruce sat, taking up the space on the other couch, Jim glanced around until his gaze landed on the remote in Damian’s hands. “What’re we watching tonight, kid?”

Dick bit back a laugh at the way Damian’s brows furrowed. He knew he was likely holding back something snippy - most likely along the lines of  _ not _ being a child, despite being twelve - but more often than not, he stayed silent for Bruce’s sake.

“I have been browsing, but I have not selected a film yet,” Damian said instead, turning his attention back to the TV. “It seems that some wished to give their input, despite it being  _ my turn.” _ He shot a look Jason’s way, so fleeting that Dick almost missed it, and he’d been waiting for it. Odds were, Bruce definitely hadn’t seen it.

“Well, it’s your choice, Damian,” Bruce said, settling back into the couch cushions. 

Dick could practically feel Damian vibrating with triumph. There was a bright smile on his face as he returned to his search, and when he settled on a documentary of all things, Dick was pretty sure it was deliberate.

* * *

If there was one thing Gotham did right, it was the aquarium.

It was on the edge of the city, near the docks. Usually, it was more commonly associated with shipping, but Gotham did have its own little beach, accompanied by one of the better looking places in town. It was a grand, sweeping building, and alongside the amusement park on the other end of the beach, it was one of Gotham’s few popular tourist attractions.

Dick had remembered it being particularly beautiful, so it had seemed like a fitting place to take Hal for their second date.

They wandered past tanks, peering in at some of the smaller, hidden fish. Their hands had found each other almost instantly, and Dick enjoyed the simple comfort of tugging gently to bring Hal to a stop when he wanted to look at a particular species. It had the added bonus of bringing him into Dick’s side, close enough to feel how warm he was.

“Why did you pick an aquarium anyway?” Hal asked as they watched the seahorses float lazily in their tank.

The serious answer was that he’d thought Hal would like it, but Dick chose the funnier option. “Well, with all the time you spend out in space, I figured you probably hadn’t seen many fish,” he said, grinning at his reflection in the glass.

Hal laughed. They were close enough that Dick could feel it in his own chest. “I did grow up on Earth,” he reminded him, squeezing his fingers.  _ “And _ I’ve seen plenty of space fish.”

They wandered past a chilly exhibit filled with penguins that blinked back at them, and made their way into a tunnel. Dick couldn’t help smiling as he saw a turtle swoop lazily overhead, paying no mind to the humans that walked below. Hal stopped them this time, stepping to the side to let others pass as they stood there to just watch various sea creatures as they swam, seemingly unbothered by the glass walls of the tunnel. 

Dick draped an arm around Hal’s shoulders as they watched. “How does this compare to space fish?”

Hal turned to face him, and Dick realised they were far too close for a public setting. He couldn’t bring himself to move away, though. 

“So far,” Hal said, his voice softer just for the two of them, “Earth’s winning two-to-zero.”

Dick glanced over Hal’s shoulder - the tunnel was empty enough; the only other tourists were heading towards the exit. It was safe.

He was the one to close the distance between them this time. He felt Hal sigh a content noise against his lips, and Dick figured a little longer couldn’t hurt.

* * *

Dick idly texted Hal over breakfast a few mornings later, smiling to himself around his mouthful of cereal. He sat on a barstool at the counter with his keys left to the side; a keyring bearing the Gotham City Aquarium logo laid in plain view, making Dick’s heart jump with familiar affection every time he saw it. He and Hal had, of course, explored the gift shop before they’d left, and while Hal’s more ridiculous gift of a giant stuffed turtle was upstairs in his room, he’d also thrown in the keyring as a slightly sneakier gesture. 

There were footsteps in the open doorway, and Dick glanced up from his phone. Bruce was already dressed, fully clothed in his usual business suit; it was safe to assume that he was just grabbing breakfast on his way to work. 

He patted Dick’s shoulder on his way past. “Morning, Dick.”

“Morning.” Dick subtly locked his phone and turned the screen down towards the table. At least Bruce wouldn’t accidentally see Hal’s name. “You’re leaving early.”

“I’ve got some things to take care of at work.” Bruce dropped two pieces of bread into the toaster, and then he turned to rest back against the counter so he could face Dick. There was a knowing sort of look on his face. “What were you smiling about before I interrupted?”

Dick paused with his spoon halfway to his mouth. “Would it be too obvious to try and play it off?”

Bruce’s smile widened. It was kind, but definitely still amused. “I saw you looking at your phone, so yes.”

He took his time with his mouthful, using it to figure out the best way to admit things with as few details as possible. “I might be seeing someone,” he eventually replied, looking down at his bowl under the pretence of reloading his spoon. “We’ve been on a couple of dates.”

“Well, congratulations.” Bruce beamed at him. The toaster popped behind him, and Dick gladly took the chance to rub at his cheek, hoping that it would get rid of the blush that threatened to bloom. He wasn’t embarrassed about dating, but talking about it with his father figure somehow still managed to fluster him.

Bruce faced him again, toast in hand now. “So,” he said, taking a bite, “who’s the lucky man?”

Dick’s hard work went out the window. He felt his cheeks burn, and he ducked his head to stare down at his cereal. He was in his mid twenties, not a  _ teenager, _ but this conversation definitely made him feel like one. “He’s... staying nameless for now. Early days, Bruce.”

“Alright, I won’t pry.” Dick heard the crunch of toast, and he figured it was safe to look up again. “I’ve gotta run. I’ll see you tonight.” Bruce paused on his way out, just so he could loop his arm around Dick’s shoulders and give him a quick squeeze. “Congrats again. Good luck with your date. It’s nice to see you so happy.”

He vanished out the door again, still carrying the remains of his toast. Dick breathed a sigh of relief as he flipped his phone over again.

_ Sorry for going silent, Bruce came to get breakfast. I’m back. _

_ It’s okay, I get it. I don’t wanna get on the wrong side of the Batdad.  _

Dick snorted and reached for his orange juice. He watched as three little dots popped up as Hal kept typing.

_ I’ve figured out what I wanna do for our third date, though. Curious? _

_ Of course I’m curious. What’s your master plan? _

He left his spoon in his now empty bowl, nudging it away to give himself more space to lean on the counter. He’d clean it up in a minute. It wasn’t like he had much else to do, aside from maybe taking a trip to the manor’s gym. Nightwing was due a patrol later, and he could do with a warmup beforehand. 

_ How about dinner at my place?  _

Warmth flooded Dick’s chest at the thought. The public dates had been wonderful, but the chance to get some time alone with Hal was one he couldn’t resist. Just the thought of being able to touch Hal’s hand without worrying about one of his brothers spotting him from afar was one that stuck with him. Dick hadn’t even realised how obvious they’d been until a couple of weeks after their first dinner date; he’d just been lucky that Gotham had behaved itself.

Privacy would be very, very nice.

Dick scooped up his phone to reply.

_ Sounds perfect. When were you thinking? _

* * *

Neither Hal nor Dick had really ever dressed up properly for their dates so far, given how casual they had been. Dick had always opted for a nice shirt and a jacket over some jeans, but for dinner at Hal’s, he decided to put in just a little bit more effort. After all, he did have some buttoned shirts that fit him  _ very _ nicely, so why not wear one? It  _ was _ the third date. Dick wasn’t deliberately trying to play his cards right, but if the chance came up...

He’d also wanted to bring something as a gift, but he hadn’t known what. Hal didn’t seem like a flowers and wine kind of guy.

In the end, Dick had settled on some nice chocolates. That seemed appropriate enough.

Hal spotted them right away when he opened the door for Dick. “You didn’t have to bring anything, you know,” he said instead of a greeting. He was smiling and there was a playful look in his eyes, though, and when Dick stepped inside, Hal swooped in to kiss his cheek before he was fully over the threshold. “Thanks.”

“I didn’t think flowers were your style.” Dick twisted to steal a quick peck in return, already delighted that he could do so in private. He pressed the box into Hal’s hands as he parted, grinning. “Chocolate felt like a safe bet, though.”

“You actually brought dessert,” Hal said. He swept his arm towards the rest of his apartment, just a touch over dramatic. “Come on in, make yourself at home. Dinner’s almost ready.”

Hal’s apartment was a little on the smaller side, but it was mostly open plan. As Dick stepped out of the short hallway in front of the door, it unfolded into a living room, and further around, the kitchen was tucked neatly out of the way with a dining table against the far wall. From where he stood, Dick could see where another hallway opened up just before the living room, presumably leading towards Hal’s bedroom and bathroom. There wasn’t much in the way of decoration beyond a few framed photos and some more generic ones; Dick assumed it was because of how much time he spent off Earth.

It was cosy, though. He liked it.

“Do you want any help?” Dick asked. He turned, only to realise that Hal had already headed back into the kitchen.

Hal shot a smile at him over his shoulder. “Nah, I’ve got it. I’m almost done.” His gaze lingered for a beat, and then he added, “You look  _ really _ good, by the way, Dick.”

“You do, too.” And it was the truth, not just a phrase to say back to Hal. Hal was still in his comfortable bomber jacket and jeans, but it was a winning look on him. Dick was, to put it lightly, a fan. 

He took a seat at the dining table, and then twisted to face Hal. From here, he could see the side of Hal’s face as he finished preparing their dinner. “It smells good,” Dick said, inhaling another deep breath. Definitely chicken, and something spicy, too. “What did you make?”

Hal glanced over at him. Something sweet graced his features, softening them at the edges. “Fajitas,” he said, and seconds later he swept over with two plates. They were already put together, and there was a healthy helping of rice on the plates next to them. “I think they came out pretty okay.”

“They look perfect.” Dick’s mouth watered, but he kept his hands to himself until Hal came back with a glass of water for each of them. “For a guy who doesn’t need to eat all of the time, you like your food, don’t you?”

“It just means I can eat more of it.” Hal settled into the chair next to Dick with a smile. Their knees brushed, and then stayed together; Dick could feel his warmth through their jeans. “Besides, it means I know how to cook a decent meal for my date. You’re gonna have to catch up, Dick.”

“I need to get you over to the manor without letting Bruce at you first,” he replied, snickering. It  _ was _ a good point, though. Dick liked cooking - he’d helped Alfred all throughout his childhood, eager to learn and improve on any skill he could get his hands on - so he was sure he could claim the kitchen for one night just so he could make something for Hal. If not, he could always take what he needed and go to one of the other unused ones elsewhere in the manor.

The thought of Bruce interrupting was clearly enough to keep Hal off the topic for now, though, much to Dick’s amusement. They dissolved into quiet, warm chatter as they ate, and as Dick had predicted, they both took advantage of the privacy, even just to keep their knees pressed together. Predictably, the fajitas were fantastic, delicious and cooked to perfection. Even Hal’s description of a ‘decent meal’ was underselling it, in Dick’s opinion, and he told him so throughout dinner in various ways, drawing a pleased smile and a joke out of Hal every time. Each one made the butterflies in Dick’s chest go wild.

He was so,  _ so _ fucked.

Once they’d eaten, they left the dishes by the kitchen sink and relocated to the couch. Hal turned the TV on for some background noise, but Dick didn’t pay the slightest bit of attention; they’d both taken off their jackets and draped them over the back of the couch, and now he could feel just how comfortably  _ warm _ Hal was as they pressed into each other’s sides.

“This looks really good on you, you know,” Hal said, plucking at the sleeve of Dick’s shirt. A grin tugged on his lips. “I didn’t realise we were dressing up for the third date. I would’ve thrown something together.”

“Please, you look good without even trying.” Dick twisted to face him, looping his arm around Hal’s shoulders as he did. It brought them closer together, their noses a few scant inches apart. “I had to think this through. You wore the same thing you always do, and it works for you.”

“I just ran out of time.” Hal gestured lazily back towards the kitchen. 

“It was worth it.” Dick quirked an eyebrow, playful. “Good food will definitely get you somewhere.”

Hal’s fingers skimmed up his arm, tracing a tingling path up to rest on Dick’s forearm. “Fourth date?”

“A fourth date is already guaranteed.” He swallowed down an uncharacteristic amount of shyness, forcing it back down and out of the way. There was no reason to be shy, not when he and Hal got along like a house on fire; he was sure that Hal would be cool and relaxed regardless of what he said, even if it was too much. “This has been fun, really fun. I like where this is going.”

A surprised little smile stole across Hal’s face. He squeezed Dick’s arm. “Me, too,” he admitted quietly. 

Dick hadn’t ever imagined he’d hear Hal Jordan be  _ quiet. _

He watched as Hal seemed to war with something else, some sort of back and forth happening behind his eyes. It didn’t last long; Dick saw the moment when he came to some kind of resolution. It was written in the way his face smoothed out again, any trace of deliberation gone just as quickly as it had appeared. 

“Can I kiss you?” he asked.

Dick answered him by closing the gap.

Hal’s lips were warm and soft against his own, and wonderfully familiar from the few kisses they’d already shared. Dick had spent more time than he wanted to admit thinking about those, and the way that Hal was always so  _ earnest. _ He was now too, melting against Dick as they pressed together on the couch with hands that wandered just a little. So far, their kisses hadn’t lasted very long, but now that there were no prying eyes, Dick desperately didn’t want to stop.

His fingers found their way into Hal’s hair, lightly stroking through the shorter strands closer to the nape of his neck. It drew a soft, pleased noise out of Hal, and though it was muffled, it sent a traitorous trail of heat trickling downwards from Dick’s chest. 

He didn’t have long to wonder about whether more would be welcome. Hal tangled his fingers in the front of Dick’s shirt and used the grip to tug him closer as he scooted back against the arm of the couch.

Hal paused once he’d arranged himself. Somehow, one leg had made its way up onto the couch and had settled on the other side of Dick, but he couldn’t remember how it had gotten there. One of his own had stayed on the floor, planted there for balance, while Dick twisted to prolong the kiss for as long as he could, until Hal relaxed and smoothed out the wrinkle in Dick’s shirt again. 

“Is this okay?” he asked, blinking up at him. “Sorry, I meant to ask that  _ before _ getting horizontal.”

Dick exhaled a breathy laugh. “It’s more than okay, Hal.” He pulled himself up onto the couch properly, slotting himself between Hal’s legs. He found a spot for his elbow near Hal’s shoulder, and he gladly used it to prop himself up.

Hal’s hands immediately returned to Dick, though they were a little less polite this time. One flirted with the hem of his shirt, hinting at tucking underneath it. “I like the view from here, you know,” he chuckled. Then, smiling wider, he added, “You come here often?”

“Jesus,” Dick laughed, leaning in to press a kiss against the corner of Hal’s mouth. “That was awful.”

“Let me guess, I’m lucky I’m so handsome?” 

“Something like that.” He was still grinning when he kissed Hal, though it soon faded as they sunk into each other again.

Hal plucked at the edge of Dick’s shirt in a silent question, and when Dick nodded, he flattened his palm against Dick’s back to slide it underneath. A shiver ran down his spine as Hal lightly pressed his fingers into his skin, mapping out the planes of hidden muscle as he explored. He could still feel the path left behind long after Hal had moved on.

Dick nipped at Hal’s lower lip, playful and teasing, only to suck in a sharp breath when Hal rocked up underneath him. 

Hal froze. His cheeks were bright pink. “We can stop if you want,” he said. His hand slipped back out of Dick’s shirt, coming up to hold onto his shoulder instead. “We don’t have to-”

“I’m good if you are.”

Hal’s lips stayed parted for a moment after Dick interrupted him, but then they morphed into a smile. “Oh, I’m good. I’m definitely good.”

There was a little more urgency in the next kiss, enough that Dick’s hips twitched against Hal’s in a tentative roll. It was worth it for the way Hal’s fingers dug into his sides, asking for more without words. Dick was only too happy to oblige, fitting himself against Hal like a puzzle piece to  _ grind _ against him, slow and firm. Hal shivered underneath him, a barely muffled moan rattling his chest.

“Shit,” he breathed, pawing at Dick’s sides. “Jesus, Dick.”

Dick held himself up on his elbow, grinning. “Good?”

_ “Yeah. _ Come on, don’t stop.” Hal tugged him back down again by the collar of his shirt, silencing Dick’s laugh with another kiss. “Haven’t even gotten started.”

Hal cut himself off with another quick gasp as Dick moved against him again. “Seems a lot like we’ve started to me,” Dick quipped.

“You’re not speechless yet, though. That’s gotta change.” 

Lips attached themselves to Dick’s neck, and he let his eyes drift closed as Hal made a winding path down until he bumped against his shirt. “Neither are you,” Dick shot back playfully.

“Told you, that’s gonna change.” Hal hummed against his collarbone as his fingers bumped against buttons. “Can I take your shirt off?”

Dick reluctantly peeled himself away from Hal to sit back on his knees, but Hal sat up anyway to help him take it off. He laid it over the back of the couch, along with Hal’s when he pulled it over his head a moment later, leaving them both in just their jeans. For a moment, Dick just drank in the sight of Hal, shirtless and flushed and smiling, and he felt his heart jump in that same telltale way. 

He laid his hand against Hal’s chest, guiding him back down to the couch with a kiss. Hal scooted down a little as they readjusted, pulling Dick with him so they were flatter before they picked up right where they’d left off.

Dick pressed him into the couch cushions with his next rock, just to hear Hal groan. A satisfying shudder shook its way through Hal, and he grasped at Dick’s shoulders harder again. “Fuck,” Hal breathed, laughter in his voice. “Keep that up and I’m gonna come in my jeans, Dick.”

“Well, we could always take them off.” Dick looked down pointedly, ignoring the spark of heat at the sight of them pressed together. It was simply too much, so he forced his gaze back up to Hal’s face.

“It’s sweet that you think I’m that patient right now.” Hal rocked up against him deliberately, and it was Dick’s turn to gasp this time. He ducked his head back down so he could kiss his way up Hal’s jaw, distracting himself as he tried to gather his thoughts.

“We don’t have to undress all the way,” he murmured. For emphasis, Dick tucked a hand down between them, thumbing at the zipper of Hal’s jeans. Grinning, he added, “This way, we won’t ruin any underwear.”

“Go for it. Can I get yours too?”

Dick nodded, admittedly a little desperate. His jeans had felt too tight for too long, so it was a relief just to have them unzipped. He let out a shaky breath as Hal pressed his palm against him through his underwear, and his fingers tripped when he tried to tug open Hal’s jeans. “Hey, I’m trying to jerk you off, here.”

“So am I.” Hal looked far too smug as he playfully snapped at the elastic of Dick’s underwear. “Can I pull these down?”

“If I can get yours too, yeah.”

Dick had to readjust, holding himself up on one of his elbows to give them both room. It was well worth it, though; his eyes slammed shut as Hal wrapped his hand around his cock, and a soft noise spilled out of him before he could stop it. Determined to get him back, Dick freed Hal too, biting the inside of his cheek as he gently squeezed him. Hal’s head dropped back against the couch with a wrecked sounding groan. “Shit,” he hissed, rocking up into Dick’s fist.

It made kissing a little more awkward, but Dick was determined. He stuck with slow, indulgent strokes as he leaned in, meeting Hal for a clumsy, needy kiss. Humour seemed to have gone out the window at the first touch of skin on skin, at least for Dick; he wasn’t sure that he could form a coherent sentence now even if he tried.

Hal, however, didn’t seem interested in keeping things slow. His free hand cupped the back of Dick’s neck, holding him close, while his other worked him over with easy, sure strokes. Dick cursed against Hal’s lips as he chased his touch, desperately trying to keep his thoughts in order.

“I’m gonna come unless you slow down,” he murmured. His toes curled with the roiling wave of pleasure. The grinding had done plenty to get Dick worked up, but he hadn’t realised just how much it had affected him until now. 

Hal just smirked into the kiss. “I don’t see a problem with that,” he said, pressing his thumb under the head. 

Dick groaned and buried his face in Hal’s shoulder, helplessly rocking into his hand. It was a little rough without lube, but not enough that Dick cared; Hal kept brushing over the tip anyway, swiping down whatever was there to help ease the way. “We’ve only just started,” he replied eventually, even as he kept following Hal’s touch.

He felt lips brush against the corner of his jaw, and it sent a tingle across his skin, bursting out from that one spot. “There’ll be other times,” Hal murmured, squeezing, and Dick bit back a helpless little noise. 

_ “Shit,  _ Hal,” he gasped, closing his eyes tight. He tried to keep up the pace for Hal too, but he ended up stumbling and eventually losing it as he came. Dick hunched over him, shuddering, as Hal just  _ kept stroking; _ it felt like he was drawing every ounce of pleasure out of him that he could, until Dick was just left panting into his shoulder. 

“Fuck, that was hot,” Hal murmured, quiet and appreciative. He tapped the side of Dick’s cock with his thumb again, just to make Dick shiver with oversensitivity. 

Still trying to catch his breath, Dick pushed himself up on one arm again to look down at him. Hal let his hand flop to the side, and as he did, Dick realised that because of the angle, he’d ended up coming across Hal’s abdomen, not just his hand. His cheeks already burned from the workout, but he felt them tingle as he flushed further. 

Hal was smirking. 

Dick cleared his throat. “Whoops.”

“It’s fine. It was hot.” 

Hal’s clean hand trailed down Dick’s collarbone, eventually coming to rest on his side. He shifted underneath him, biting his lip when Dick drifted back to his cock again. He watched as Hal’s eyes drifted shut with a soft sigh of relief. 

“Almost wondered if you’d forgotten,” Hal rasped, teasing. 

“What, this?” Dick grinned lazily, loosely tracing his fingers along Hal’s skin. 

Hal opened his eyes just to shoot him a playful glare, despite his shiver when Dick secured his grip around him. “You know, I didn’t peg you for a tease.”

“It’s only sometimes.” Still smiling, Dick dipped down to press a kiss to Hal’s chest, and then trailed a couple more lower as he felt the fluttering of his heartbeat under his skin. He paused with his lips there as he circled his thumb over one spot under the head of Hal’s cock, thinking. “Hey, Hal?”

“Mm?” Hal sounded like he was surfacing from water, dragging himself up again.

Dick looked up at him, meeting Hal’s eyes as he peered down. “Can I blow you?”

Hal jerked underneath him, twitching against his palm.  _ “Shit, _ Dick,” he hissed. “I- yeah, fuck. Let me up, I can grab a condom from my bedroom-”

“Or,” Dick said, “we can just relocate.” He didn’t move from where he knelt, though, still idly touching Hal. He didn’t want to move away, not before he had to. “Saves you a trip back.” 

He could see Hal debating over the pros and the cons - the proximity of the shower for their cleanup versus the effort required to move - and he bit back a snicker when Hal reached for Dick’s shoulder and heaved himself upwards with a sigh. “It’s not fair that you’re so smart.”

Dick’s laughter bubbled out of him anyway as he got to his feet. Before they went anywhere, Hal tugged his jeans off the rest of the way, leaving them in a pile by the couch; Dick did the same, though he left his with his shirt instead across the back of the couch. He had just enough time to adjust his underwear and pull it back into place before Hal took him by the hand, hastily leading the way to his bedroom.

There wasn’t time to take in Hal’s room when they got there. Dick backed him up towards the bed immediately, kissing him up towards the pillows until Hal slumped back against them. 

“Where are they?” he asked between kisses. He’d already shoved Hal’s underwear down to his thighs again so he could get his hand back on him. Hal whimpered as Dick went back to his slow, teasing touches. 

“Top drawer,” he gasped, flinging out a hand to slap at it until it opened. Clumsily, Hal tossed a foil packet onto the bed by his hip.

Dick scooped it up, running through the motions of tearing it open and rolling it onto Hal’s cock. He settled down between Hal’s legs then, pressing a kiss to the base of his dick as he stroked. Hal’s fingers wound into his hair, and Dick gladly let them, enjoying the gentle press against his scalp. 

“I won’t last long,” Hal said. When Dick glanced up at him, he saw Hal openly staring at the way Dick trailed kisses up towards the head.  _ “Jesus. _ Not long at all.”

“That’s fine.” Dick grinned, and smugly, he quoted Hal’s words right back at him. “We’ll have other times.”

Hal laughed, tipping his head back against the pillows. “Okay, smartass.”

Still smiling, Dick turned his attention back south. He steadied his hand at the base as he sunk down on Hal’s dick, taking a couple of inches onto his tongue before he bobbed up again. If Hal was close anyway, he was more than happy to help speed up the process; he’d teased him enough, and put him through switching rooms, too. He closed his eyes as he dipped lower again, savouring the rumbling groan from above.

Hal swept his hand through his hair again, pushing it back from his face for him. “Fuck,” he breathed. His thighs twitched on either side of Dick, threatening to thrust upwards, so Dick did the first thing that came to mind: he laid his arm across Hal’s hips, holding him down against the mattress.

_ “Dick.” _ Hal’s other hand flew down to his wrist, weakly curling around it. “The come-”

He had, admittedly, forgotten about his come on Hal’s abdomen, despite the evidence being right there in front of him, but he didn’t care anyway. A shower was already on the cards, after all, so he could clean up then. 

To stop Hal’s worrying, he sucked a little harder on the next pass, and he was rewarded with a desperate little sound. Dick wished he could get hard again so soon; Hal was a gorgeous picture sprawled out on the bed, shifting and panting, holding onto Dick’s wrist now instead of trying to tug him to a dry patch. He didn’t seem to stop moving now that Dick wasn’t hovering over him. It was surprisingly endearing, and, admittedly, way too hot. It was probably a good thing that Dick couldn’t come again so soon.

Hal’s fingers gently tugged at his hair, warning him. “Dick,” he moaned,  _ “Dick, _ I’m close-”

Dick jerked him off a little quicker, twisting his wrist with the next stroke, and then Hal buckled. He was held back only by Dick’s forearm, but he jerked up against him with a sharp cry of his name. His fingers stayed deliberately relaxed, though, just so he didn’t yank on Dick’s hair, which was a pleasant surprise. He kept bobbing as Hal came, gradually slowing until he popped off entirely as Hal began to soften.

Hal’s hands dropped back to the mattress, somehow still a touch dramatic despite being worn out. “Shit,” he breathed, half laughing. 

Dick carefully tugged the condom off of him, tying it off and tucking it into the abandoned packet. He set that on Hal’s bedside table now to deal with in a minute. For now, he crawled back up to rest beside Hal, gladly sinking into the arm that Hal automatically wrapped around him. He even leaned in to lazily kiss Dick, despite the fact that he’d just been blowing him.

“I don’t remember the last time I came that hard,” Hal murmured when they parted. He glanced down, then seemed to shrug off the mess on his abdomen. “Gonna need a shower before bed, but it was worth it.”

“Mind if I grab one with you?” Dick asked. It was far enough that he desperately didn’t want to, but he knew he’d appreciate the effort in the morning. He wasn’t sure he’d want to face the dried come on his forearm before his first coffee.

Hal squeezed his arm around him. “I thought it was implied that we’d be sharing.” He stifled a yawn against the back of his other hand, blinking sleepily. “Think I’m gonna go grab it before I pass out. You ready?”

Dick pulled himself up to his feet, leaving his underwear on the floor next to Hal’s. It didn’t really cross his mind that he hadn’t brought any other clothes; he hadn’t wanted to put any kind of pressure on the evening, so he hadn’t expected to stay over. They’d never discussed it. 

There was something sweet about crowding into the shower with Hal, though. Dick helped himself to Hal’s shower gel, silently enjoying the way the familiar scent of it filled the cubicle as they both soaped up. Once they were clean and dry - Hal tossed a fluffy towel at him when they stepped out of the shower, which also somehow managed to smell just like him - they stumbled back to the bedroom. Hal pulled out a spare pair of sweats for Dick, and then they finally sunk into bed together, trading kisses and quiet laughs.

No, Dick hadn’t expected to stay the night, but he was more than happy to. As much as he liked his room back at the manor, curling his arm around Hal was something close to perfect.

* * *

Bruce didn’t ask why he was absent when he made it home the next morning. Dick felt his heavy stare on him as he headed into the kitchen for lunch - not breakfast; he’d already eaten at Hal’s when they woke, and they’d ended up lingering on the couch for a while before he eventually left. To his relief, Bruce only greeted him and politely asked how he’d slept, pretending that he hadn’t noticed anything at all. Dick couldn’t decide if that was better or worse, and he settled on just making himself a sandwich.

He didn’t have a good opportunity to see Hal over the following few days. He’d traded off enough nightly patrols for their dates that it was his turn again. Instead, they messaged back and forth, and they even called once or twice when their schedules overlapped; overnight walks through the streets meant that Dick needed to adjust his sleeping, though, so there was only a small window when they were both awake. As fulfilling as it was to help protect Gotham, Dick couldn’t help it when his thoughts drifted in the slower hours, when he found himself grappling from rooftop to rooftop in a silent search for activity. 

Hal texted him as the sun rose on his last shift. Dick felt his phone buzz against his arm in its concealed pocket, and he paused on a corner of a roof to check it.

_ Are you awake? _

_ Heading back from patrol. What’s up? _

_ Can you come over? _

Unease stirred in Dick’s stomach. He took a quick glance at the rooftops around him - all empty - and he could only assume it was about what Hal wanted to discuss, not because some criminal was waiting to pounce on him. 

_ I’ll head over now as long as you don’t mind the costume. _

_ Of course I don’t mind, it’s hot. _

Dick managed to crack a little smile. It couldn’t be too awful if Hal was still flirting with him. It certainly wouldn’t be a breakup; Hal wasn’t cruel enough to toy with his feelings like that. 

He fired off a quick text to Bruce to let him know he wouldn’t be home on time - it was a safety precaution, one that Dick thought was reasonable when flying solo - and then he took off towards Hal’s apartment. 

He didn’t particularly want to walk in through the lobby while dressed as Nightwing, so Dick hunted along the wall until he found the right window. Still a little high up, but the grapple gun zipped him through the air and dropped him on the narrow balcony outside Hal’s living room. Once he’d found his balance again, he rapped his knuckles gently against the glass.

A shadow moved through the apartment. The edges of it glowed a faint green.

Green Lantern opened the sliding door, huffing out an amused little laugh when he spotted Nightwing on his balcony. “Okay, fair enough. I didn’t think about the entrance.”

He stepped back so Dick could come in. “What’re you doing suited up?” Dick asked, turning to face him once they were in the safety of Hal’s apartment. “Gotham’s quiet, I barely had anything happen all night.”

For the first time, Dick saw Hal look uncomfortable. He sunk down onto the couch with a sigh, running his gloved hand through his hair. “It’s not about Gotham,” he said eventually. “My… vacation is up. I need to go back to Oa.”

Dick blinked at him. That was hardly a revelation. “I’m surprised you stayed as long as you did. I thought you’d have to go back much sooner.”

“They’re just as capable without me. We try to rotate out since there’s so many of us, but it’s never for very long.” 

There was still something else to it. Hal’s shoulders were slumped, weighed down by something he’d left unsaid so far. He ran a hand through his hair again, messing it up on his way, but he didn’t seem bothered by it.

Dick took a seat next to him, bumping their knees together fondly as he settled in. “What is it, Hal?”

Hal’s hand came to rest on Dick’s lower thigh, giving it a gentle squeeze. “I don’t know how long I’ll be gone.”

“So?” It didn’t sound like much of a problem to Dick, especially not when he and Hal had such a good thing going. 

“So it could be weeks, or it could be months.” Hal looked down at the floor as he exhaled a long, slow breath. “One time, it was a year before I came back to Earth. Oa needs me, and space can get weirdly busy.” He made it sound like a joke, but there wasn’t much humour in his words, and it fell flat instead. Right now, he sounded more bitter than anything else.

A pit opened up in Dick’s stomach, threatening to swallow him up. “I get it. Gotham gets hectic, too.”

“But you’re still home,” Hal pointed out. “You live and work in the same city. This is a little different.”

Dick didn’t know what to say to that. He blinked at Hal, studying the side of his face and the way he just kept frowning. He’d seen Hal in the midst of his work as Green Lantern, and even then he wasn’t that serious. 

“Earth is yours, too,” Dick said after a moment. “I waited to see you before, I’ll wait to see you again.”

“For months, though?” Hal finally looked up, shifting so he could meet Dick’s gaze. “Years? We can’t even talk when I’m gone. I…” He looked away briefly again, eyes closed as his shoulders sagged lower. “I don’t wanna keep you waiting like that.”

And there it was.

“I like you, Dick,” Hal admitted. A real smile, small but genuine, spread across Hal’s face as he looked Dick in the eye. “I like you a  _ lot. _ I already did before, and these past few weeks were better than I had imagined. I don’t wanna make you wait for me, though, when I don’t know when or if I’ll be back.”

Dick didn’t even know how to reply. He wanted to fight, wanted to say something to keep their budding relationship going, but Hal had clearly already made up his mind, and he wasn’t going to stomp all over that decision. The thought of losing this before they’d even really started pulled at him, though, and he found himself holding Hal’s hand a little tighter, as if it would remove the reality of the situation.

“I like you a lot, too,” he said, rubbing his thumb against the side of Hal’s hand. “I get it, I just… I don’t want to give this up.”

“Me neither,” Hal murmured, “but I don’t want to tie you down. I  _ can’t.” _

The thing was, Dick  _ wanted _ to be tied down. Being with Hal felt right - he was fun and warm and sweet, and their relationship was satisfying in all the right ways, even though they hadn’t exactly discussed it until now. They were only a month in - hell, more like three dates and some phone calls - but Dick had a good feeling.

But Hal was right. Dick knew it, deep down, even though he didn’t want to acknowledge it. If Hal was going to be gone for long periods of time, then Dick knew that he’d want the best for him too, even if it meant he met someone else while he was up in space. After all, that was what Hal was implying: that if Dick met someone else, he didn’t want to stop him. 

It didn’t make it feel any better.

He still held Hal’s hand.

“What about next time you come back?” Dick asked, an edge of desperation slipping into his voice. “If we’re both free?”

Hal seemed surprised by the question. Maybe he hadn’t thought about it. His fingers flexed around Dick’s as he considered it. “If we’re both free…”

“We could go to dinner.” Dick  _ really _ hoped that he wasn’t overstepping. If Hal was done, he would respect that - he’d be sad that it was over, but he certainly wouldn’t press Hal to continue if it wasn’t what he wanted. Odds were, though, Dick wasn’t going to find anybody else in the meantime, not when he worked such strange hours as Nightwing, and he doubted he was going to get Hal out of his head anytime soon anyway.

Hal stared off into the corner of the room, his brows furrowed in thought. Dick held his breath and waited.

“Alright,” he said, and Dick exhaled  _ hard. _ “If, when I come back to Earth, you ask me for a drink, we’ll go out as friends, no questions asked.” Hal had started to smile again now, and Dick felt something flutter to life in his chest. “But if you ask me to dinner instead, I guess there’s no harm in picking up where we left off.” 

Of course, that wasn’t counting the fact that Hal would inevitably leave again, and the cycle would begin anew. They could cross that bridge when they came to it.

“We’re probably screwing ourselves over here,” Dick said, half laughing. 

“I know.” Hal puffed out a quiet chuckle, still smiling, as he squeezed Dick’s fingers. He desperately wanted to kiss Hal, but he didn’t know if that was welcome now after what amounted to basically a breakup. “Seriously, though, if you find someone else while I’m gone, that’s okay. I’ll understand.”

Dick’s heart tightened painfully. He felt his smile falter for a moment, but then he recovered, managing a passable enough one just for Hal. “You, too.”

It would hurt if Hal came back for just drinks, but Dick would stick to the agreement. He wouldn’t ask questions, and he wouldn’t pursue anything. He liked Hal both as a date and as a friend, and if he couldn’t have the former, he knew he’d still gladly take the latter. 

Hal’s smile gradually faded, and his attention drifted to the door. “I need to get going. And you need to sleep,  _ Nightwing. _ I know you’ve been up all night.”

Exhaustion was indeed tugging at Dick, but he wasn’t sure he could rest now. There was too much spinning around in his head, too much that would keep him awake long after he should’ve drifted off. He needed rest, though, if only so he could stay composed in front of his family; the last thing he wanted was to give them any hint about what had happened this morning. It was, quite frankly, none of their business.

“I’m heading to bed as soon as I get home,” Dick promised. He stood with Hal, and finally, he reluctantly dropped his hand. “Stay safe out there. You’ve got a dinner date waiting for you.” 

Hal laughed quietly, and Dick’s stomach swooped in the same way it always did at the sound. His pulse rocketed when Hal stepped closer, lifting a hand to cup his jaw and draw him in for one quick kiss - it was short, barely more than a brief press, but it left Dick tingling all over just like their first. His hands landed on Hal’s hips, just to hold him there for a moment longer before they separated.

“You stay safe, too.” Hal thumbed his cheek, and then he let go again, stepping away to put space between them. “I’ll text you when I’m at the Watchtower. After that, I’m heading out to Oa. And you,” he said, pointing at Dick, “had better be asleep anyway.”

He snorted. “I need to clean up first, and then we’ll see if my brothers let me get any shuteye.” 

Dick followed Hal’s lead, climbing back out onto the balcony so Hal could lock up. The sun had truly started to rise over Gotham now, granting the city a golden glow around its sharp edges. It was an oddly nice day for such a gloomy place.

Hal took off after one last goodbye - a quiet word and a touch to Dick’s shoulder - and then he was nothing more than a green streak in the sky. He found himself wanting to stay and watch until the last trace of him was gone, but Dick didn’t want to be caught standing there as Nightwing, so he unhooked his grapple gun from his belt and began the too long trip home. 

* * *

When Dick woke in the late afternoon, there was a text from Hal waiting for him. It had come in while he’d been asleep, buried in the pillows and the total darkness of his room, and he stared at it blearily as he tried to make sense of the screen. A few blinks later, it finally came into focus.

_ Just passing the Watchtower. See you soon, Dick. _

His thumbs hovered over the keyboard, debating an answer. ‘I miss you’ came to him unbidden, despite the fact that it wouldn’t quite be appropriate now. His half asleep brain still felt the stab of emotion that came with it - because, God, Dick was a hopeless romantic at the best of times, and those dates had been some of the best he’d had - but in the end, he switched out those three words for something else.

_ Have a safe trip. _

_ [Your message could not be delivered.] _

Of course. Hal  _ had _ reminded him that it wouldn’t work now. In his freshly awoken haze, Dick had just forgotten.

Somehow, it stung more now that he knew that he couldn’t reach Hal. Staying in bed was a very, very tempting option - he could play it off as still being tired from a few late nights in a row, and his family probably wouldn’t question it. They’d tease, certainly, there’d be plenty of that, but he’d be able to sink back into bed in peace, even if he didn’t actually get much more rest.

On the other hand, Dick needed to correct his sleeping schedule. It was already dangerously close to dinner, and he hadn’t eaten anything since the night before.

He hauled himself out of bed and shuffled downstairs in his sweats and t-shirt, grabbed a few slices of toast, and tucked himself into their usual living room. It was the same one that they tended to use for movie nights and hanging out in as a family, but for the moment it was blissfully empty. Good. It meant that he could put something mindless on TV and just sink into the blanket he’d grabbed from the back of the couch without anyone looking at him too closely.

‘Breaking up’ wasn’t quite the right word for it. He and Hal had been on a few dates, and as far as Dick knew, they’d been exclusive during that time. It had been the start of a relationship, something that likely would have progressed into a fully fledged one given the chance, but that was just it: the start of one, stopped before it could get too far. They’d tried it on, fooled around a little, and found out just slightly too late that things were more complicated than they’d seemed at first. It wasn’t necessarily a bad thing - just unfortunate.

He still felt like shit about it, though.

The door opened as Dick set his now empty plate on the coffee table, and he tried to hold back a flinch. He’d been hoping to spend some time alone. 

Tim shuffled in, though, peeking around the corner until his gaze landed on Dick. Some of the tension drained from his hunched shoulders; of all of his brothers, Tim was probably the best to get in this situation. He, at least, would respect Dick’s privacy if he wanted it. 

“Hey,” Tim said, stepping further into the room. “Did you sleep well?”

“Yeah.” Dick forced down any desire to complain, instead tucking himself back into his blanket nest. He loved his family, and he didn’t particularly want to brush them off just because he was feeling a little sorry for himself, even if he did want some peace and quiet. “I only just woke up. What did I miss?”

Tim shrugged. He came over to drop onto the couch with Dick, sitting on the end of his blanket without noticing. “Nothing.” He paused, slumping back against the couch cushions as he considered Dick. “You got back late this morning. Did last night go okay?”

“Yeah, it was fine. No trouble. It just took a little longer to get back.” He glanced over at Tim, frowning. “Why?”

“Nothing, you just…” Tim trailed off, uncertain. “You seem a little down today.”

Dick forced a smile. He knew it was probably off, definitely not up to his usual full grins, but he just hoped he could pretend he was tired. “I’m fine, Tim, promise. You know how it is after a few late patrols.”

“Yeah.” Tim didn’t seem convinced, but Dick considered it a win when he didn’t press. Instead, his gaze shifted away, flitting across the room until they landed on something below the TV. “Hey, do you wanna play something until dinner?”

Tim definitely knew something was bothering him if he was suggesting that. They all knew that Dick thrived off of interaction with his family - he liked being social, and he loved doing things together - so it was, unfortunately, a little bit obvious that something was wrong when he wanted to be alone. He also deeply cared for his brothers, though, so with Tim here looking up at him with a hopeful little spark in his eyes, clearly desperate to help him out, Dick couldn’t say no.

“Sure,” he said, and this time, his smile came easier. “Alfred’s gonna have dinner ready soon, though.”

“We can play until then.” Tim jumped back to his feet, darting towards the shelf where they kept their consoles and controllers to pick something out. “We can always pick it up again after.”

Privately, Dick thought that that sounded like a good idea. Distractions were welcome - he couldn’t sit around and think about Hal all day, even though he missed him. He had, after all, given Dick that space so he hopefully wouldn’t sit with him on his mind, but they had both known that it wasn’t as simple as that. The dinner or drinks promise made that pretty clear.

With that in mind, Dick happily took the controller Tim offered him, and before he knew it they had dissolved into giggles together over a  _ Lego _ game.

There was still a heavy feeling in his chest, but for now, Dick could ignore it.

* * *

Of course, it was only a matter of time until Bruce noticed.

Two weeks and five days, to be precise. 

He found Dick outside, sitting on the patio and idly playing fetch with Titus. It was a favour for Damian, technically - his youngest brother was incredibly fond of his dog, and he’d asked Dick to give him some exercise before he came home from school. Titus was a great beast of a creature, but absolutely soft at heart, and he’d wriggled with delight when Dick had called him into the garden with a ball in hand. He was good company, and he wouldn’t ask any questions if Dick was a little slow to throw the ball again.

His father, though, was a different story.

Bruce lingered by the door, watching as Titus scrambled after his ball. “Mind if I join you?”

“Go for it.” Dick nudged the spare garden chair with his foot. He knew he was likely hammering the nails into his own coffin here by inviting Bruce to sit with him, but there was also no point in pushing him away just because he felt like it. 

When Titus trotted up again, he took a detour to rub himself against Bruce’s legs, demanding a hello petting. Bruce obliged, scratching him behind the ears with a fond murmur as he took the ball. He threw it for him again, and Titus scampered away once more as the ball bounced behind a hedge. 

For a moment, they watched Titus as he wagged his tail and scrabbled to find his ball. He made little snuffling noises as he stuck his nose into the leaves, huffing when he came back with nothing. It was sunny enough that the light cast a warm glow over them; Dick closed his eyes to enjoy it, appreciating the rare temperature. Gotham didn’t get much of it, even in the summer, so he’d take what he could get. 

“Dick.”

He opened his eyes again. “Yeah?”

He felt Bruce’s gaze on him, heavy and concerned. Dick pretended to be very interested in Titus’ search, even when Bruce spoke again. “Is everything okay?”

“Everything’s fine.” He didn’t even have it in him to be annoyed that someone was asking him that a second time. To be fair, Dick knew he’d been a little quieter, despite the fact that he’d tried to be the exact opposite. He  _ wanted _ to be his usual self, but he just didn’t have the energy for it. All he could do was put on the best performance he could, and hope that that would work out. Evidently, it hadn’t.

Bruce let out a slow breath through his nose. “Dick, you and I both know that you’ve been acting different the past couple of weeks. What’s wrong?”

Dick sighed. “Bruce…”

A hand landed on his shoulder, gentle and steadying all at once. “Please don’t close yourself off. If you really don’t want to talk, I’ll leave you alone, but I  _ am _ here for you. We all are. If it’s something you want to discuss, I’ll listen.”

He felt abruptly like he was a teenager again, coming to Bruce with what had seemed like the simplest of struggles compared to their time as Batman and Robin. Dick rubbed at the back of his neck, avoiding Bruce’s watchful gaze as he tried to figure out just what to say, and how  _ much _ to say. He didn’t want to divulge  _ everything, _ not when there was a chance of rekindling things with Hal when he came back, but…

“It’s about my date,” he said eventually, letting his hand drop back to his lap. 

“Ah.” Bruce nodded. Just that one word let Dick know that he was probably vaguely uncomfortable or out of his depth, but entirely unwilling to say it. It was enough to make the corners of Dick’s mouth twitch with half of a smile. “Is… everything going okay?”

“It’s complicated.”

Titus finally returned, looking thoroughly pleased with himself. He presented his ball to Dick this time, dropping it into his hand with a heavy huff. He gave him a good scratch under the chin before tossing the ball again, aiming a little further to really get him running. It was what Damian had wanted, after all. 

“Did it not work out?”

Dick shrugged one shoulder. “It’s… complicated,” he repeated. “It  _ was _ working out, but he had to leave Gotham.”

A brief pause. He didn’t look up, but he imagined Bruce’s eyebrows raising with faint surprise, and then drawing down into a frown. “I’m sorry.” 

“It happens.” 

Dick dropped his chin in his palm. He felt the wave of heartache threatening to crash, and for once, he decided to let it go. He’d been holding it back anyway, trying to pretend that he was fine, but now that Bruce was listening, why not talk about it a little bit? There were ways to edit out the details and hide who his date was; there was no reason to set Bruce on Hal the next time he went to meet with the Justice League. 

“It was going well,” Dick said. He spoke slowly, choosing his words carefully. It wouldn’t escape Bruce’s notice, he was sure, but hopefully he wouldn’t comment on it. “I knew he wouldn’t be staying permanently. Work keeps him coming back and forth all the time. I just didn’t think about what would happen when he had to go out again.”

Bruce stayed silent, simply letting Dick get out what he needed to. Sighing again, Dick ran a hand through his hair just to burn off some excess nervous energy. “We broke it off. Sort of.”

“Sort of?” 

Dick closed his eyes, trying desperately to ignore the burning awkwardness creeping up his throat. “It was left open. If we’re both still single and interested when he’s around again, then…”

He trailed off, hoping Bruce would fill in the blank for himself. It was hard enough going into that much detail; he wanted to protect Hal’s identity, but it was also because of how embarrassing it was to discuss this much with his father. Bruce had always been a good shoulder to cry on growing up, listening patiently and offering advice where he could with earlier relationships, but it had been a while now since Dick had taken him up on that. Part of that was down to maturity, and the rest was just because he hadn’t actively dated for some time. Hal had been the first in a while.

Belatedly, Dick realised that it was the first time he’d applied the word ‘single’ to himself since Hal had left.

He winced and stared down at his feet. “Sorry. I didn’t mean to word vomit.”

“Dick, it’s okay. It sounds like you needed it.”

“I… guess I did.” Maybe keeping it all to himself hadn’t been such a good idea after all. He just hoped that Bruce hadn’t put two and two together - he’d seen him and Hal talking at that first meeting, and he had to be aware that Hal had recently left for Oa. 

Bruce’s arm settled around his shoulders, tugging him in for a quick squeeze. “Did you want advice or just someone to listen?”

Dick leaned into Bruce’s one armed hug. It was comforting. “Sure,” he said, shrugging a shoulder, “if you’ve got advice, go for it.” He paused, biting the inside of his cheek, and then added, “You don’t think I’m screwing up with the whole leaving it open thing, do you?”

“I think…” Bruce hummed thoughtfully, pausing to idly rub Dick’s shoulder to soothe him. “I think it sounds like you two were on the same page: you liked each other a lot, and circumstances made things awkward. As long as you’re happy with the idea - genuinely happy with it - I don’t see the harm in it.” He reached up, tousling Dick’s hair affectionately. “Just make sure you don’t wait around forever. That’s not fair to either of you.” 

Titus finally made his way back to them, and this time he flopped down by their feet to chew at the ball instead. It seemed like he’d had enough of playing fetch.

Dick turned his head in against Bruce’s shoulder, accepting another tighter hug. “Thanks, Bruce.” 

“Of course, Dick.” Bruce’s arm slipped away again, and Dick sat up a little straighter. “I hope that helps.”

“I am feeling a little better,” he admitted. Even just talking it out had lifted a weight from his shoulders, despite the fact that not much had changed. Dick still desperately liked Hal, and he was still millions of miles away, but…

Talking to Bruce had lifted his spirits, just a bit.

* * *

The following day found Dick in the manor’s gym.

It was, of course, fitted with everything the whole team needed. Dick had his own corner where he could practise his gymnastics, and while that usually scratched his itch for exercise at home, it wasn’t doing it for him this time. There was too much energy trapped in his muscles for just holding himself up on the gym rings, even if he strained to hold his position in the air. 

The door opened, and Dick gracefully let himself swing back to the floor. Jason spared him a nod as he let himself in, and then made a beeline for the punching bag. 

“Hey,” Dick said. He shook his arms, trying to get rid of any aches. “What’re you doing?”

“I was thinking this.” Jason paused mid stretch to gesture towards the bag on the other side of the mat. “Why?”

“We could spar,” he offered. Out of everyone, Bruce and Jason were the two who posed the biggest competition to Dick. Tim and Damian could put up a good fight, but Dick usually found his way around them - and either way, they were busy. This, however, would be a good way to get rid of the buzz trapped under his skin.

Jason sized him up, looking him up and down for a long moment, and then he nodded. “Alright. I’ll use it as my warm up.”

“Warm up?” he laughed. “You wound me, Jason.”

Dick grinned as he joined Jason on the mat, bending his knees a little to ready himself. Where Dick was light and quick on his feet, Jason was like a bull, channelling all of his strength into charges and sharp movements. One thing was for sure, though: Dick was going to run circles around his younger brother.

They circled each other at first, each waiting for an opening that they knew the other wouldn’t give. It wasn’t until Dick feinted, leading Jason to his left, that it truly began.

Jason wasn’t fooled, and Dick hadn’t expected him to be. He rushed in, making a grab for Dick, only to close his fists on open air. Dick laughed as he leaped to the side, delighted with the rush of air past his ears. This was exactly what he’d needed, he realised, dancing around Jason again, stepping neatly out of his reach. 

It was a solid, easy start, something to get the blood flowing, and it soon escalated. It didn’t take long for Dick to start parrying his blows, throwing up a forearm to deflect Jason or sweeping his leg under him in an attempt to trip him. Neither could really get an advantage over the other - they knew each other’s styles too well to pull out any surprising tricks - but it wasn’t about the win for Dick. It was simply about expelling the energy that had built up in his chest, removing it so he could go back to being his usual easygoing self. 

He’d come to the gym to exhaust himself with a thorough workout, but a fight was what he’d really wanted.

They didn’t let up until they were both sweating and panting, and it was Jason who was the one to back off and hold up a hand. “Alright, pause,” he said, reaching up to swipe his forearm across his forehead. “I do actually wanna do other shit in here, not just this all day.”

“Alright.” Dick puffed out another laugh. He straightened up, sweeping his hair back from his face to get some cooler air on his skin. He ached all over, especially where he and Jason had traded hits, but it felt good. Linking his fingers, Dick raised his hands over his head to stretch his arms, enjoying the tug on his muscles. “Thanks, Jason. That wasn’t bad.”

“You’re gonna hurt a hell of a lot worse than me tomorrow,” Jason shot back. He rolled his shoulders as he headed for the cupboards tucked in the corner. As they spoke, he started wrapping his hands in preparation for the punching bag. 

Dick shrugged and scooped up his water bottle. “Please, I’ve had worse from Damian.”

Jason frowned at him from across the room. “That’s big talk for a guy who couldn’t score a win.”

Bumping the door open with his hip, Dick turned back to call over his shoulder with a grin. “You didn’t take me to the mat either!” 

The door swung shut again on Jason’s wordless grumble, and Dick set off down the hallway with a spring in his step. First things first, he needed a shower; he’d really feel the effects of his workout then, but he also knew he’d feel better than he had in weeks.

* * *

Physical exercise didn’t help when the sun set, though.

Dick laid in bed, flat on his back as his muscles ached, looking out at the sliver of sky between his curtains. Stars had burst into life in the sky, dotting the inky blackness with constellations that he could only see in small pieces. Shadows of the trees throughout the manor grounds lined the bottom of the view, but above, the sky was unusually clear, even for the outskirts of Gotham.

He couldn’t tear his eyes away. His body was desperate for sleep, but Dick just… stared.

It was easy to connect the dots, just like he could if he tried to link together the lines of Ursa Major in the night sky; the stars made him think of Hal, and the fact that he was out there somewhere, soaring through space. 

Dick’s chest ached, entirely unconnected to his sore muscles. It didn’t hurt exactly, not like his arms and legs did, but it was just as persistent.

When he eventually closed his eyes, he could still see the impressions of the stars behind his eyelids. He thought of the constellations, and he thought of the view from the Justice League Watchtower, and most of all, he thought of Hal. It had been weeks - closer to two months by now, just like Hal had said to expect - but he still missed him just as sharply as he’d known he would. 

He wondered where Hal was now, and whether he’d want that dinner when he came back to Earth. Dick knew he did, and he could only hope that Hal felt the same.


	2. Chapter 2

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> You can find me on tumblr @capedcommissioner!
> 
> Reminder: incest shippers do not interact with my blog or my fic.

The first thing that Hal did when he came back to Earth was crash.

Or, more accurately, the first thing he did was plug his phone in, and _then_ he crashed.

Technically speaking, Hal didn’t need to sleep. The ring did a lot of the work for him, namely preventing him from needing to eat or rest, but they were both things that Hal enjoyed doing, so he often took part anyway. Besides, while the trip back to Earth wasn’t physically exhausting, it was definitely tiring mentally to fly across the galaxy to make his way back here. Hell, before Dick, Hal had tended to stay on Oa rather than travel when he had his off time. It was just easier.

Dick had changed a lot of things, though. 

Hal always kept up the payments on his apartment back on Earth just in case. It all worked automatically so he didn’t have to think about a thing. It had, admittedly, been a while since he’d had a reason to visit Earth regularly, though. Any other time, he’d just stayed over at Barry’s, but now… 

He wasn’t sure what he’d expected when he’d given Dick his number. Dates, definitely, and hopefully more, but Hal hadn’t thought far enough ahead to consider what would happen when things got serious. They’d certainly been going that way when John had called and asked him to come back to Oa. He just hadn’t considered the logistics of a long distance relationship that spanned a good portion of space, and when he _had_ sat down to consider it, Hal had realised how utterly fucked it was.

Dick was solidly based in Gotham. Blüdhaven too, sure, but that wasn’t exactly far from home. He was a human who lived and worked on Earth, and sometimes made a quick trip up to the Watchtower when the Justice League - or, more accurately, Clark or Bruce - wanted a big meeting. 

Hal was human too, but he spent almost every spare moment out in space. He rarely set foot on Earth nowadays; he had a room on Oa even though he didn’t need to rest, filled with all of the comforts he’d need to keep him occupied. The windows even simulated an Earth twenty-four hour cycle just for him.

So Earth was a problem, but only because Hal had quickly fallen head over heels for Dick. That fact hadn’t changed, even after two months of distance.

When he woke, the sun was up, but Hal had no idea what time it was. He hauled himself upright and ran his fingers through his hair, as if it would help him wake up, but his eyes stayed heavy and droopy. Nope, that kind of tiredness was only going to shift with one thing: coffee.

Hal grabbed his phone and forced himself out of bed, shuffling through to the kitchen in just his underwear. 

He didn’t check his messages until he had a hot, steaming mug in his hands. He paused with the cup halfway to his mouth, his throat closing up just at the sight of Dick’s name. Hal knew he’d been the last one to send a text, so Dick must have tried reaching him even after he was far away from Earth’s satellites, even though he’d told him it wouldn’t work. 

_Have a safe trip._

Hal steeled himself with a mouthful of coffee. Just seeing their history right there in text form made his heart skip a beat. That in itself was proof of its existence, a reminder that they’d had something. Part of him wanted to think that maybe Dick would have moved on, but the rest of Hal, the selfish half of him - which, really, was a pretty big half - desperately wanted him to still be available.

_I’m back._

He hit send before he could think twice about it, and then moved to get himself a late breakfast.

His phone pinged across the room, but Hal made himself stay put as he waited for the toaster. Hal forced himself walk back to the couch in measured steps, even though his pulse had skyrocketed at the first sound of his ringtone.

_Welcome back. How was your trip? Did you see any space fish?_

Hal huffed out a quiet laugh. _Space fish._ He’d almost forgotten that conversation, even with the stuffed jellyfish hanging out on his dresser. 

_No space fish, but it wasn’t a bad trip anyway. Had a few scrapes out there, nothing serious. How about you?_

_Same old Gotham. Nothing exciting._

There was a pause as Hal bit into his toast, considering his response. Maybe there hadn’t been any big events, but he found himself wanting to know the little things that Dick had been up to, or how he was, or, more importantly, whether he’d met anyone. 

Hal hadn’t. He felt like a little bit of a hypocrite, considering he’d ended up just hanging on and waiting for Dick.

_How’ve you been?_

Silence. Hal fumbled for the TV remote as a distraction. He didn’t want to see the inevitable bad news, and he _definitely_ didn’t want to think about how to handle it. Drinks with Dick would be painful; sure, he wanted him as a friend, but that wouldn’t come right away. He’d have to find an excuse to fly back out to Oa.

_Okay. I’ve been okay. I’ve either been fighting crime or dealing with my family. You?_

_Pretty much the same._

That wasn’t exactly helpful. It implied it, but…

Fuck it, Hal decided he was just going to ask. He wanted to see Dick anyway, even if it was an answer he didn’t want to hear. He could plaster on a smile for long enough if it was bad news. His thumbs hovered, though, uncertain, as Dick started typing again. 

_Do you wanna go out for dinner?_

The gears in his brain ground to a halt. 

Dick wanted to go for dinner. It wasn’t just Hal, it was mutual. _How_ mutual was another question entirely, one that he wasn’t prepared to ask just yet, but it was mutual _enough._

He typed quickly enough that his fingers stumbled, and he had to slow down again to correct typos. _You could come over again,_ he wrote. _Tomorrow, if you want. I haven’t got anything to cook with, but we could get takeout._

_That’s the best idea I’ve heard in months. What time?_

_Whenever you want._

Hal hesitated over a second text. His heartache was gone, replaced by a buzz of excitement deep in his chest, but the sting of it remained. ‘I miss you’ waited on his screen with the cursor blinking right back at him.

He deleted it. 

* * *

Dick showed up at six, sharp. He had a backpack slung over one shoulder, and when Hal raised an eyebrow, he sheepishly said, “I figured I’d bring a change of clothes. I don’t _have_ to stay over, but I don’t want Bruce seeing me in yesterday’s clothes again.”

“You’re more than welcome to stay over.” Hal closed the door behind him, but he didn’t take his eyes off of Dick. It was just so _good_ to see him in the flesh, especially after so long spent on his hazy memories. He made a casual t-shirt and jeans look amazing, and had his hair always swooped so perfectly?

Dick dropped his backpack by the door. “It was just in case,” he said. “Seriously, if you don’t want me to, that’s fine.”

Those three words sat on the tip of Hal’s tongue again, threatening to spill out. He swallowed them back in favour of reaching for Dick’s hand. Their fingers tangled, fitting together just like they had two months ago, and a fizzle of _something_ raced up Hal’s arm to settle somewhere behind his heart.

“If I didn’t want you to stay, I’d let you know,” Hal promised, smiling crookedly. Dick’s hand fit so _nicely_ in his own. There were callouses on his fingers, he realised, brought on by years and years of physical work. “Now come on, get in here so we can pick what to eat, I’m starving.”

Dick’s laugh was one of the most beautiful sounds he’d ever heard.

They settled on Hal’s favourite Chinese place on his street. The food was quick and good, but even with a movie on for some background noise, his focus was zeroed in on Dick. He gladly traded bites of their dishes, and he was enchanted by just the press of their knees and the bump of their elbows as they ate. There were two glasses of water on the coffee table, but Hal didn’t need alcohol to feel drunk on Dick’s presence.

Their first kiss came shortly after dinner. Hal gathered up their empty plates to take to the kitchen, and while he stood at the sink rinsing them, a pair of arms circled around his waist, and Dick’s chin hooked over his shoulder. 

“What’re you doing here?” Hal asked, chuckling. “You didn’t have to get up.”

He felt Dick shrug. “What if I wanted to be over here?”

“And what could _possibly_ be over here for you?” 

Hal turned around in Dick’s arms, a grin firmly plastered on his face. Dick was already beaming at him, clearly just as amused, and Hal felt some of his resolve disappear at the sight of that smile. If he wasn’t careful, leaving was going to hurt twice as much this time, but in the moment, he couldn’t really bring himself to care.

“Well…” Dick’s eyes dropped down to Hal’s lips for just a moment, and the thin thread of his restraint snapped. 

Hal kissed him. Dick melted against him, and Hal looped his arms around Dick’s neck to simply hold him. This was only a small part of what he’d missed, but _God_ it was a good start back on the right track. Dick’s lips were soft and warm against his own as they traded a few gentle kisses, and Hal’s thoughts just… trailed off as he zoned out to enjoy it. 

He was in trouble and he knew it. All of his feelings came rushing back - they’d never really left - to swallow him up, and he happily drowned in them.

* * *

Dick did stay over that night, but they didn’t progress any further than kissing. They returned to the couch for a while to just indulge in some cuddling; Dick seemed to gravitate towards his side before he’d even fully settled in, fitting himself under Hal’s arm comfortably. He didn’t remember a single thing they watched, but he did remember dipping down to occasionally trade a kiss or two with Dick, and on a few occasions, Hal pressed one into his hair or his forehead.

It felt like they’d been doing this for years.

They retreated to his bedroom when Dick started to yawn. He snagged his backpack on the way, only to leave it at the foot of Hal’s bed once he’d changed into sweats and a t-shirt. When Hal joined him, Dick snaked his arm around his waist and tugged him back against his chest, curling around him from behind. It was warm and comfortable, and Hal definitely wasn’t going to turn down being the little spoon.

It wasn’t long before Dick’s breaths evened out, and quiet snores fluttered at the back of Hal’s neck. He closed his eyes too, and while it was a little longer before sleep took him, he didn’t mind.

This was pretty damn close to perfection. The only way it could be better was if it was permanent. 

* * *

“So,” Dick said, shooting a grin at Hal over his shoulder, “how long has it been since you came to an arcade?”

Along the busier, more tourist heavy section of Gotham by the beach, an arcade was tucked away in one of the less shabby buildings. It had been around for years - even Hal knew that from his first visits a while ago, when he’d first picked up the mantle of Green Lantern - but it was one of the few things in the city that didn’t seem to show any wear and tear. It was well loved and respected, apparently enough that even the criminals left it alone for the most part.

Hal couldn’t remember the last time he’d been to an arcade, though. He knew he’d been as a child, and he remembered collecting all the tickets he could carry to pick out whatever trinkets were on offer, but he definitely hadn’t been in recent memory.

He shrugged and tangled his fingers with Dick’s. “I don’t know. What about you?”

“Tim likes this place. I’ve been here a lot.” Dick made a beeline for the change machine. He tugged out a few bills and fed them into it, and then drummed his fingers on his folded arms as he wanted for his coins. “I figured it’d be fun, something to do instead of just eating out.”

Hal reached up to squeeze his shoulder as Dick collected his change. “It _does_ sound fun,” he agreed. “Where do you wanna start?”

Grinning, Dick pulled him over to an air hockey table. There would be no tickets for the winner, but there would be plenty of competition, and Hal was beginning to realise that he’d do almost anything if it made Dick smile like that.

The real prize, though, was when they moved on and began to accumulate tickets. Hal draped their winnings around his shoulders like a scarf as they moved from game to game, and he refused to keep count. He lost track somewhere along the way, and he decided he’d just find out when they were done. He tugged Dick close with a quick kiss at one point, smiling against his lips as he eased the newest trail around his neck instead; Dick didn’t even notice until he felt the card tickle against his bare skin.

“What’re you doing?” he asked, laughing.

“Accessorising,” Hal replied, biting back a snicker. “I think it’s a good look on you, you know.”

“Then I’ll keep it.” Dick tugged on the end of the line, watching it spring back into place. “Well, until we trade these in, anyway.”

Hal hadn’t even glanced over to the prize booth yet; he’d been enjoying spending time with Dick too much to think about the potential end of the date. He took a quick look over there now, though, curious. “What prizes do they usually have?”

“The normal stuff.” Dick shrugged, peering through the crowd to pick out their next machine. “Erasers, bouncy balls, stuffed animals.”

“We could get you another giant one to go with your turtle.”

“That thing has already taken my chair,” Dick said. He reached for Hal’s hand as he weaved between other visitors, and Hal gladly took it. “It doesn’t need any help.”

“Oh, it took your chair? Sorry, I know you’re probably _lacking_ in those in your huge house-”

“In my room, yeah.” Dick rolled his eyes as he tugged Hal closer, but he was smiling as he led the way to a free Whack-A-Mole station. “I did use my desk sometimes, you know, on occasion.”

They dissolved into a fit of giggles all over again as they added a few more tickets to their already ridiculous pile, and then Hal’s curiosity over the prizes got the better of him. Together, they lingered over the various toys and trinkets, and amongst their choices, Hal picked out a bouncy ball that looked like the Earth. He thought it was both hilarious and fitting, and when Dick paired it with one shaped like the moon, complete with crudely painted on craters, he was _delighted._

As they stepped back out into the weak Gotham sunshine, he took Dick’s hand again like it was the most natural thing in the world. In his other, he held the bag of their prizes, ready for them to unpack and sort when they got back to Hal’s apartment.

“Dick?”

Next to him, Dick froze mid step. Almost comically, Hal continued for a second until his arm was tugged backwards by their clasped hands. Confused, he turned, and then he realised.

Right there, about to head into the arcade, were two of Dick’s brothers. Tim and Damian, if Hal wasn’t mistaken. 

Shit.

Dick didn’t let go of his hand, though, even when Hal wiggled his fingers a little in a silent offering. He couldn’t tell if that was a good or a bad sign. 

“What are you doing here?” Dick asked, sounding a little strangled.

“Hanging out with Damian,” Tim said, frowning right back at him. “Why are _you_ here?”

Damian was staring at Hal. It was ridiculously unnerving. At least when he was dressed up as Robin, the superhero disguise put them on the same level, but right now he was just being thoroughly examined by a twelve year old. He knew Damian was smart - everyone in the Justice League did; Bruce didn’t shut up about any of his sons when he was given the chance to talk about them - but Hal hadn’t quite realised what it meant until he was on the receiving end of his cold glare.

If Bruce’s flesh and blood son was this bad, he suddenly _really_ didn’t want to stand up to the man himself. 

“Hanging out,” Dick shot back. For someone who was normally so relaxed and collected, Dick definitely seemed thrown out of his element now. If Hal hadn’t been shocked silent by suddenly coming face to face with two other Waynes, he’d have laughed. “I didn’t know you were coming here.”

“Spur of the moment thing,” Damian said. He still hadn’t taken his eyes off of Hal. “And this is…?”

Dick squeezed his hand. “Hal.”

“Jordan. I see.” Damian nodded once, as if things now made sense - almost like he’d _expected_ them to. “I wondered how long it would be.”

“How long until what?” Finally, Dick moved again, though it was in exactly the opposite way Hal wanted to go. He pulled him closer to his brothers, stepping out of the way of the arcade doors so they didn’t block other tourists, but Hal wanted to run for the hills and, preferably, never stop. 

Damian gestured at their joined hands. “Until _this._ I saw you two exchange numbers at the Watchtower. I’m not a _child,_ Richard, I knew what it meant.” 

Dick shot a desperate look around, almost like he expected the rest of his family to show up. If Hal was honest, he wouldn’t have been surprised at this point if Bruce swooped down to get rid of Hal himself. How was he supposed to look him in the eye the next time the Justice League met? It was easy enough when he and Dick had been wrapped up in their own little bubble, but he was a goner now that the secret was out.

“So,” Tim said, cocking his head, “when were you gonna tell Bruce?”

“I’m-” Dick groaned and dragged a hand over his face. “Bruce knows that I’ve- Actually, you know what? I don’t have to explain this now.”

“Oh, so Father knows?” Damian arched a brow in an impressive parody of Bruce. “Then I’ll make sure to tell him we ran into you and Jordan-”

“It’s Hal,” Hal croaked.

“Don’t tell Bruce,” Dick pleaded. “He doesn’t know _who.”_

While Damian looked like he was ready to argue, Tim seemed a little more sympathetic. He tangled his fingers in the back of Damian’s shirt, directing him towards the arcade doors. “I’ll make sure he doesn’t say anything,” he promised. “Sorry, I didn’t realise-”

Dick waved him off, managing a small smile as he did. “It’s fine, Tim. I’ll… I’ll talk to Bruce when I get home later.”

Hal swallowed hard as Dick’s brothers vanished inside, though it wasn’t without one last lingering frown from Damian. He shivered as they finally turned away, continuing back out onto the streets. “Your little brother is terrifying.”

“Which one?” Dick asked, deadpan. 

That was fair. After all, it included Jason too, and Hal had heard more than enough about him. “Damian.”

“Yeah.” Dick sighed, reaching up to rub his cheek again. “He’s a great kid when he wants to be, but I think he enjoys being the asshole little brother way too much.”

“I can tell.” 

Hal’s feet automatically directed him towards home. It had been their planned destination before encountering Tim and Damian, and as far as he knew, it was still the case. Dick hadn’t shown any indication of anything different. If anything, he leaned in closer and rubbed his thumb against the side of Hal’s hand, as if trying to soothe him, as they made the slow, meandering trip. It didn’t quite have the same sweetness to it now, though.

Hal gnawed at the inside of his cheek, fighting back the bubble of worry that rose in his throat. “Are you gonna talk to Bruce?” 

Dick shrugged. “I don’t have to if you don’t want me to. Although, he already knows _some_ parts of this.” He paused, and when Hal glanced at him, Dick seemed like he was trying to find the right words, so he stayed quiet. “I told him about the… arrangement, but I didn’t tell him who you were. That was pretty much all I told him, actually.”

Hal snorted. “Well, he was gonna find out at some point, I guess.”

Something about that made Dick perk up a little, though Hal couldn’t put his finger on it. If he squinted, though, he was pretty sure he could see the faintest of pink tinges on Dick’s face. “You think so?”

And then Hal realised where Dick was going with that. 

It was the simple concept of time. He’d interpreted it to mean _‘Bruce would have found out because we kept going’_ , not just _‘Bruce would have figured it out himself’._ To be fair, Hal couldn’t fault Dick for that jump, not when he’d also been tempting fate by thinking too far ahead on occasion. If anything, the fact that Dick seemed so receptive to the idea - not just of Bruce finding out, but the concept of a future - was a good indicator.

That still didn’t solve the whole going off into space problem, though.

“Yeah,” Hal said, offering Dick a smile. He knew he was fucked anyway, so maybe it was just time to embrace it. That was, after all, what he usually did. “As long as he won’t kill me just for dating you, then I guess we could let him know.”

“He won’t kill you.” Dick laughed, and Hal’s heart soared. “You’re too important for him to do that.”

Hal knew what he meant - that he was important to the Justice League, to Oa, to the world beyond this one small planet - but the idea of being important to _Dick…_

He hadn’t realised how deep that desire ran until then.

* * *

Hal dropped back onto his couch with a sigh, propping up his hand on his chest. The green hologram protruding from the ring stayed steady despite his movements, and John looked back at him with a faintly amused expression as Hal wriggled to get comfortable. 

“How’s Oa?” Hal asked, still shifting. 

_“Quiet, for once.”_

“What about around it?” Hal gestured vaguely. “You know, other planets, space?”

_“Nothing we can’t handle.”_

He couldn’t decide if it was comforting or annoying that he wasn’t needed. On the one hand, Hal would gladly, _greedily_ take the chance for more time with Dick, but on the other, realising the depth of his feelings had made things complicated. The idea of meeting Bruce and the family would only tangle things further, and it would do the exact opposite of what Hal had intended when he and Dick had discussed his absences from Earth. The chance to get away would have been a good excuse to carefully put things back where they belonged.

Really, Hal thought, he should have realised that it wouldn’t be as simple as switching their relationship off whenever they wanted. Maybe it wouldn’t have been so complicated if they had just been friends with benefits.

_“What’s on your mind, Hal?”_

It was tempting to talk to John, to just unload the whole tangled issue on someone else. Maybe John would have some easy words of wisdom he could give Hal that would sort everything out for him, and Hal could go about the rest of his stay on Earth without constantly thinking _‘what if’._

He didn’t want to burden someone else with his problems, though. It wasn’t fair.

“Nothing,” he said, shrugging. “Don’t worry about it.”

_“If it’s bothering you…”_

Hal tried to keep his face neutral. He really, _really_ didn’t want to betray the fact that it _was_ bothering him. Now that he’d decided to keep his mouth shut, the last thing he needed was for John to pursue the matter. Hal could try to navigate the awkward problem that was his relationship status on his own. 

“It’s fine, John.” Hal sat up again, though this time he intended to stay upright. “If there’s nothing to report, then I’ll let you go.”

John frowned at him - he hadn’t gotten anything past him, and he certainly wasn’t pretending that he had - but he nodded. _“Have a good day, Hal.”_

The hologram vanished, and Hal buried his head in his hands. 

* * *

Hal gasped for breath against Dick’s shoulder, trembling as Dick curled his fingers _just_ right. He was flat on his back on his bed with Dick kneeling between his spread legs, and they were three fingers into prepping Hal. So far, Dick had taken things achingly slow; he’d kissed Hal down into the mattress before he’d started taking him apart, piece by desperate piece, until Hal was breathlessly begging for him to get to the point.

“Hold on,” Dick said, half laughing as he withdrew from Hal. 

“Dick,” he whined, playfully grabbing at him as he leaned over towards the bedside table. “Come _back.”_

“I need a _condom,_ Hal.”

He flopped back against the pillows with a sigh. “Fine. I’m getting lonely over here, though, you know. Might just have to take matters into my own hands.” 

After what felt like a lifetime, Dick knelt between his thighs again. He tore open the packet so he could roll a condom on, lightly batting away Hal’s interfering touch. It didn’t stop him from trying to cop a feel again, though, not when Dick started laughing the second Hal’s hands landed on his hips in an attempt to tug him closer. They crashed together again, and Dick caught himself with an elbow next to Hal so they didn’t completely tangle into a pile of limbs.

“Better,” Hal mumbled against his lips.

“It was two seconds.” Dick nipped at his bottom lip, and Hal felt a trickle of heat drip down his spine. He scooted closer, tugging one of Hal’s legs around his hip, and then his hand dipped down between them. Hal watched, rapt, as Dick’s eyes fluttered closed at the touch of his own hand. “Shit, Hal…”

Hal tried to swallow, but his throat was dry. “Now you’re just teasing,” he croaked. 

Dick’s eyes drifted open, and he shook his head with a fond grin. “Sure, nothing at all to do with the fact I haven’t been touched the whole time I was fingering you.” Still, he leaned in to kiss Hal, and he felt Dick press against his ass, so Hal considered it a win-win. 

He let out a long, shaky breath as Dick eased into him, careful despite how long he’d spent just prepping. There wasn’t even a hint of an ache, so Hal hooked his ankle around Dick to try and get him going faster. “C’mon,” he muttered, biting his lip. 

Dick stopped, but Hal could feel the gentle tremble of his hips against his thighs. “I’m being careful,” he said, nosing at Hal’s jaw. 

“I’m fine.” Hal skated his hands up Dick’s shoulders. One came to rest there, curling around the muscle of his upper arm, while the other tangled in his hair so he could tug him in for a kiss. Dick went willingly, shivering out a moan as he finally, _finally,_ sunk into Hal. 

And then he stayed there, unmoving as they kissed. 

His hand was still on Hal’s thigh, his touch gentle as he hitched it higher around his waist. The shift made Hal gasp against his lips as a frisson of pleasure skipped through him; his brain felt like a broken record, jumping and starting again just from that simple adjustment. 

“Dick,” he breathed, fingers grasping at his shoulder, _“please.”_

“Yeah, yeah. Fuck.” Dick tilted his head to tuck it in against Hal’s neck instead. He felt the press of his mouth against his skin moments later as Dick rolled his hips in a slow, lazy grind, but then Hal was too busy trying to hold on to pay much attention to the heartbreakingly gentle way Dick kissed his shoulder. “Hal,” Dick murmured, stroking his palm up his thigh to his hip.

Hal’s fingers combed through Dick’s hair, messing it up even further. Somehow, it always managed to fall so perfectly, but right now it was scattered from the many times Hal had threaded his fingers into it since they’d fallen into bed that night. He simply held on as Dick rocked into him again, a whimper slipping out from between his teeth at the _perfect_ angle. “Holy _shit,_ Dick.”

He felt a puff of breath and the curve of a smile against his neck. “Good?”

Hal groaned, though more out of amusement than pleasure. “Of _course_ it’s good. I thought that was obvious?”

“A little.” Dick pushed himself up just enough to rest on one of his forearms. It put them close enough to bump noses, and Hal did on his way to Dick’s mouth.

“Thought I was supposed to be the cocky one,” he muttered, tugging lightly at Dick’s hair just to draw a pleased little noise from his throat.

“I’m not being cocky,” Dick said, laughing quietly. “Just trying to make sure you’re enjoying yourself.”

“I’d be enjoying myself more if you _moved_ -”

Hal cut himself off with a moan as Dick _did_ move, no doubt deliberately judging by the way he chuckled against Hal’s ear. It was only a slow roll of his hips - a gentle withdrawal and an easy press back in again - but it made his toes curl in the air behind Dick as he squeezed his upper arm. After being at a standstill for so long, it made him shudder and arch up against Dick as he tried to catch his breath.

 _“Shit,”_ he gasped. His lips stayed parted as Dick finally built up a slow, easy pace, though he stayed as close as he could to Hal as he rocked, tucking his fingers between the back of his hip and the mattress to pull him into his thrusts. 

Hal’s eyes drifted shut as he rode the easy wave of pleasure, basking in the way it washed over him like sunrays. He and Dick had slept together a fair few times since they’d picked up dating again - not every night Dick stayed over; Hal liked sex with him, but he loved his company and his laugh even more - but it had never been quite like this. Usually, they teased and worked each other up until they were desperate, but so far this felt closer to _lovemaking_ than anything else.

The implication of it was both terrifying and thrilling.

He dug his fingers into Dick’s shoulder as he ground against him again, a little harder than before. _“Hal,”_ he breathed, the sound half moan and half sigh. 

A hot curl of arousal tightened in Hal’s stomach. He released his hold on Dick’s hair to dip his hand between them, taking himself in hand. As much as he wanted to jack himself off quick and fast, he forced his touch to stay light and teasing, almost gentle as he stroked himself with Dick’s movements. The lube bottle was still within reach, but there was no need for it; with how long Dick had taken with prep, there was plenty of slick already there for him to work with.

“Shit,” Dick murmured, pressing a kiss against Hal’s jaw. “Are you-”

“Yeah.” Hal squeezed Dick’s shoulder. He thumbed over the head of his cock, gathering more precome to ease the slide of his hand. “Fuck, Dick, _please-”_

He was silenced by a sudden kiss, and Hal melted into it with a muffled groan. Distantly, he felt Dick adjust the way he was kneeling, and when he picked things up again, there was just a little more urgency to his thrusts. Hal’s head dropped back against the bed with a thump, and he tilted it to the side as Dick nuzzled under his jaw again, clumsily kissing as he panted.

Any pretence of slow vanished. Desperate, Hal began to stroke himself a little faster, only to find Dick’s hand working its way between them to take his place. Hal bucked up into his touch when Dick took over, just as quick to match the pace of his thrusts.

“Dick,” he hissed. A shiver ran across his skin as Dick worked a mark into the crook of his neck, as if doing so would muffle his own sounds. “Dick, I’m close, shit- _Dick-”_

His orgasm crashed over him suddenly, leaving Hal clinging onto Dick in a desperate bid to stay afloat. His thighs clamped down on Dick’s sides as he shuddered, twitching up into Dick’s hand for more. Coupled with the feeling of Dick fucking into him, Hal was left boneless as he came, and he whimpered as pleasure finally faded into tingly aftershocks.

It didn’t quite seem to end, though, not when Dick was still _moving,_ quicker now as he chased his own peak. He caught Hal in a kiss, one that he did his best to keep up with. Hal’s hands wandered, circling around to drag his fingers down Dick’s back to feel the muscle there as he panted against Hal’s lips.

“Close,” Dick breathed, clumsily bumping his mouth against the corner of Hal’s. “I’m so close-”

Hal sealed his lips against Dick’s again, squeezing his own eyes shut as he ignored the roar of oversensitivity racing through his nerves. It was worth it for the way Dick’s hips tripped in their rhythm and then _pressed_ against him, grinding as Dick shivered in his arms. 

_“Hal,”_ he gasped. His muscles jumped under Hal’s palms as his rocking slowed, and he gradually relaxed. 

Smiling lazily, Hal kissed Dick’s temple. Sure, they were messy, but he was content to stay there for a moment and enjoy the afterglow. Dick’s weight over him was reassuring and comfortable, and as he stirred and propped himself up, it was worth it to see the same easy warmth reflected back at him. 

“That was hot,” Hal said, grinning. Idly, he ran his fingers up and down Dick’s spine, just to feel goosebumps rise up in his wake. 

_“You_ are. It’s actually unfair how hot you are, you know.” Dick pecked the corner of his lips, and then pushed himself upright. Hal reluctantly let his arms drop as Dick moved away, climbing to his feet to dispose of the condom. 

Hal tilted his head, grinning. “Well, I’m getting a pretty good view right now, so I’d say it’s a fair trade.”

Somehow, despite the thorough way he’d just taken Hal apart, Dick’s cheeks turned pink when he realised Hal was staring. He rolled his eyes and smiled, though, on his way back over to the bed, and Hal hummed as Dick’s fingers threaded into his hair. “We should shower,” he said, laughing quietly when all Hal did was lean into his hand.

“I know,” Hal sighed, “just give me a minute. I can’t feel my legs.”

Dick laughed louder, more fully, and when he leaned down to kiss Hal, his traitorous heart thrummed in his chest. 

It did the same just before Dick left the following morning, in much the same circumstance. Hal kissed him at the door before he opened it, and Dick shrugged off his backpack to give Hal his full attention. His hands came to Hal’s hips to draw him closer, and the kiss ended up being much longer than Hal had originally planned; it left him tingling from the tips of his ears to the ends of his toes. 

“See you later,” Hal said when they parted.

Dick grinned at him, as easy and as natural as anything. “Later, Hal.” 

And then he was gone. Hal leaned back against the closed door as his pulse pounded in his ears, and he knew he was in trouble. 

* * *

“So, I talked to Bruce.”

Hal paused, a fry halfway to his mouth. “What did he say?”

“He, uh…” Embarrassed, Dick glanced away, looking out of the window next to their table. “He’d already figured it out.”

They’d met for lunch at the same diner Dick had first brought him to. Dick had said he’d wanted to talk, and Hal had half expected him to say that he was done; he’d been back on Earth for a couple of weeks, and it was only a matter of time before he had to go back out to Oa again, after all, and leave behind what they’d had since his return. Hal couldn’t help wondering how long Dick would be willing to keep the arrangement up. It had already been just over three months since their first date - closer to four, really - and while most couples would be official by that point, they were still just nameless. 

Two of those months had been spent apart, while he was up on Oa.

Hal took a bite of his fry, swallowing those thoughts along with it. “Well, he’s smart. He knew when I was on Earth, I let the League know. He already saw us at that meeting, too.”

Dick frowned, swirling his straw in his coke. “Yeah, Damian helpfully reminded him about that.” He shifted his attention back to Hal, and a little smile spread across his face. “He actually showed up in the middle of me telling Bruce. Pretty sure he was making sure I kept my word.”

“It’s been a couple weeks since he saw us, though.”

“Yeah. I think he was just biding his time.” Dick laughed quietly, and Hal felt something warm curl up deep in his chest. 

A comfortable moment passed as they bumped feet under the table and traded fries from each other’s plates. Hal enjoyed the gentle brush of their hands when they met, silently chasing the spark he felt from such a slight brush of skin. He would miss the little things like that when he had to leave again, he thought. That, and the way that Dick’s whole face lit up when he smiled.

Dick cleared his throat, and when Hal looked up from his quest to take another fry, he saw Dick watching him. “I can back off if that’s too many,” Hal joked, holding up his hand in surrender.

“What?” Dick looked confused for a second, and then as he looked back down at Hal’s salt covered fingers, he laughed. “Oh, no, that’s fine, go for it. I actually wanted to ask you something.”

Cautiously, Hal took his prize, though he wasn’t sure if he had the stomach for it now. “What’s up?”

“Well… it’s less asking, and more passing on.” 

Hal relaxed. If it was passing something on, then it wouldn’t be a question about where they were going. That was something he had no idea how to answer, and he was _in_ the relationship. “That’s terrifying, Dick, thanks.” 

“It kind of is,” Dick agreed, and Hal felt his appetite vanish. “After I told Bruce I was dating you, he said you’d be welcome to come over for dinner.” 

Hal stared at him. “He wants me to come over for dinner? I thought you said he knows about our _situation.”_

Dick puffed out a sound that was almost, but not quite, a quiet laugh. “He does.” 

“And he’s okay with it?”

“Somehow. He said as long as we’re happy with it, then he’s not going to interfere.” Dick shrugged, seeming just as baffled as Hal felt. He didn’t know _how_ Bruce was alright with that kind of arrangement for his eldest, but Hal would take the free pass.

Hal rubbed at his temple, considering his options. “Did he say _when_ he wants me to come over?”

“He didn’t specify. Whenever works, we’ve always got room for one more.”

Hal bit back a quip about how _of course_ they always had room for one more in Wayne fucking Manor, and instead he nodded thoughtfully. “We could do sometime next week, I guess. I can’t promise I’m gonna survive it, though.”

“You’ll be fine,” Dick assured him, chuckling. Now, Hal noticed that he seemed more relaxed; he’d been so wrapped up in himself that he hadn’t noticed the tension that had been lining Dick’s shoulders. “Nobody’s gonna kill you, Hal.”

“Okay.” Hal sat up straighter, and as he spoke, he counted off on his fingers. “Your dad is Batman, your _other_ dad is a cop, you have a brother who _came back from the dead-”_

He trailed off as Dick started laughing, hard enough that he put down his burger so he could gather himself. Any trepidation Hal had felt momentarily faded away as Dick smiled at him, and somehow he found himself agreeing to a time and a day. Hal knew he’d regret it later - only when he was home alone and really thought about the idea of meeting Dick’s family, and not even as a proper boyfriend at that - but for now, it was worth it to see Dick’s grin.

* * *

It felt worth it until he stood outside Wayne Manor, that was.

He’d seen it and visited before, of course. Bruce had held various functions over the years, some public and some kept quiet for the Justice League, and while Hal hadn’t attended every single event, it wasn’t the first time he’d faced the mansion. Right now, it somehow seemed grander than before, taller and more intimidating. Even the ivy crawling up the walls seemed artful and expensive. 

Dick emerged from the great double doors with a smile. He was casually dressed, comfortable in a plain t-shirt, and Hal wondered if it was deliberate; he’d told Hal to come as himself, in his bomber jacket and jeans, so maybe he was trying to reassure him. It worked, especially when Dick looked good in just about anything.

He had _also_ told Hal to bring an overnight bag. It had felt a little presumptuous given it was his first time stepping into the manor as Dick’s romantic… _something_ \- he didn’t feel like he had the right to use ‘partner’, not when he’d be leaving him single again within the month. 

“Hey,” Dick said, greeting him with a little squeeze of his fingers.

“Hey.” Hal wiggled his fingers in between Dick’s, settling them in their usual spots. “So, what kind of hell am I walking into?”

“Bruce is home, and Jim will be soon.” Dick held the door open for Hal, and he didn’t seem to notice when Hal stared at the foyer in quiet awe. He just continued up the stairs, leading Hal somewhere. “My brothers are around. We can drop your bag in my room, then we’ll go find Bruce.”

 _Room_ wasn’t quite the best word for it, Hal decided. Dick’s room - and no doubt everyone else’s - comprised of a living area, and beyond that was the actual bedroom with its own bathroom attached. Both were filled with little things that just seemed so Dick, along with some surprises, too. Amongst the scattered novels and trinkets from their dates, there was, bizarrely, a Batman branded mug that acted as a penholder on Dick’s desk.

“I made it when I was a kid,” Dick explained when he saw Hal examining it. “Alfred’s pretty good with arts and crafts, you know. It kept me entertained.”

“Huh.” Hal traced the painted on logo - it was pretty good for a kid’s handiwork - and then set it down again. Already, he’d learned a few more things about Dick, and he wondered what his own apartment said about him.

Dick came to stand beside him, resting an arm across his shoulders as he leaned against him. “I’ve got plenty more,” he added. “They all look pretty much the same.”

Hal glanced across at him, unable to stop himself from smiling when he saw the soft look on Dick’s face. “They all have the Batman logo? Didn’t Bruce say anything about that?”

“No. I think he just found it cute.” 

Dick’s grin widened as Hal’s arm looped around his middle. “It is pretty cute,” Hal agreed. 

They paused there together, and Hal found himself just studying Dick’s face. His eyes were such a nice shade of blue, Hal realised; it was pretty, and it reminded him of a clear sky. Some of his hair had slipped from its effortless styling to drift across them, and Hal automatically reached up to sweep it back into place for him. 

There was the sound of a throat clearing behind them, and they jumped apart.

Bruce stood there in the doorway, and Hal was pretty sure he was about to die. Dick’s father might have been smiling and finely dressed for dinner, but he was sure that that was the smile of a man who was about to kill his son’s _romantic something._ Hal could see it in the way he was leaning casually against the doorframe, looking faintly amused as Hal shoved his hands in his pockets, as if he hadn’t just had them on Dick.

“Hey, guys,” Bruce said.

“Hey,” Dick replied easily. 

Hal almost froze when Bruce’s gaze shifted to him - almost. _The man without fear,_ he reminded himself. “Hi.”

Bruce cocked an eyebrow. “I’ve never seen you look so nervous, Hal,” he teased. “Relax, there’s nothing to worry about.”

“Told you,” Dick added quietly. 

“It’s weird seeing him like this,” Hal muttered back, as if Bruce couldn’t hear every word they were saying. He didn’t interrupt, but there was a smile on his face. Then, at normal volume, he said, “It’s just a little… odd seeing you as you, and not as Batman, you know, Spooky.”

“For what it’s worth, it’s a little strange to see you not as Green Lantern,” Bruce agreed. Hal couldn’t tell if there was a silent _‘especially in my son’s bedroom’,_ or whether he just imagined that to punish himself. “Welcome, though. Dinner won’t be long. I’ll text you when it’s ready, Dick.” 

Somehow, Dick was comfortable enough to rest his arm on Hal’s shoulder again. “Alright. Thanks, Bruce.”

When his footsteps had faded down the hallway, Hal slumped. “Oh, thank God.”

“I told you it would be fine,” Dick said, laughing at the way Hal dropped his head against his chest. His hand came up to thread into his hair, and Hal hummed at the gentle touch. “He doesn’t care.”

“No, but that’s only one family member down.” Hal wrapped his arms around Dick’s middle, selfishly enjoying the hug. “Still four to go.”

* * *

Meeting the others didn’t come until dinner. Hal had wondered if they would track Dick down, sniffing out a new arrival like particularly sensitive tracker dogs, but if they knew, they left them alone. Dick led him to the family’s usual dining room, only to find Bruce already seated and idly scrolling his phone. Alfred was on one side of him, the evening _Gotham Gazette_ in hand, but the chair to the other side of Bruce was empty. Both of them were ignoring their covered plates in front of them.

Dick tugged Hal over to a pair of seats. Bruce looked up, blinking a couple of times to clear his thoughts before he smiled at them. “Hey. The others are on their way. Feel free to start eating if you want, I’m just waiting for Jim.”

“Is he on his way?” To Hal’s surprise, Dick didn’t go for his food yet. He folded his arms on the table, content to chat with Bruce. Hal decided to be polite and follow Dick’s lead, tuning in in the hope that he’d have something to contribute to the conversation.

“Any minute.” Bruce nodded, and he tucked his phone back in his pocket. “Are you staying the night, Hal?”

He hadn’t expected to be thrust into the spotlight. Hal idly twisted the ring on his finger, using it as a quick little way to relieve some nervous energy. “If that’s okay,” he replied cautiously. Fuck, he was used to staring Bruce down across a meeting table, rising to the challenge of standing up to someone much older who thought that his age and experience meant that he was more likely to be reckless. It was infuriating at the best of times, and satisfying when he proved Bruce wrong.

“Of course it’s okay. I’d only have a problem if you were a complete stranger.” Bruce actually _smiled_ at him. He was so much more gruff when he was Batman that Hal almost questioned if this was even the same man. “I know you, so why would there be an issue?”

He could think of a few very good reasons why there’d be an issue, but he held his tongue.

Hal was saved by the door opening. Three figures - two familiar - joined them, taking their places at the table. Tim waved at Hal, and he found himself raising his hand to wave back. Damian shot him a suspicious look as he slid onto his chair, offering little more than a polite, “Hello, Jordan.”

The third was someone Hal both recognised and was completely unfamiliar with. 

He knew about Jason, of course. It was impossible to be part of the Justice League and not know what had happened to the second Robin, including his eventual revival. According to Bruce, he was no longer a threat, and the League had trusted his judgement on that. The mere fact that he was here, settling in on Dick’s other side at the Wayne dining table, proved that.

“Hal, right?” Jason asked, leaning forwards to get a look at him around Dick.

“Yeah. Jason?”

He nodded, and he reached for the dome over his food. “What’s for dinner, Alfred?”

“Lasagne, Master Jason,” Alfred answered from behind his paper. He folded it and set it on one of the few empty dining chairs to keep it neatly out of the way. 

The door swung open one last time, and Hal felt a final bolt of nerves settle in his stomach as Commissioner Gordon let himself in. Surely, Hal thought, if nobody else at this table was going to have it out for him, the actual cop would. 

“Sorry I’m late,” Jim said, shrugging of his coat to drape over the back of his chair. “Hey, kids. Hey, Alfred.” Before he sat, Hal watched as he leaned in to give Bruce a quick, sweet peck on the cheek. “Hey, you.”

“Hi.” Bruce beamed up at him and tugged out Jim’s chair for him. “How was work?”

“Busy,” Jim sighed, sinking into his seat, “but when isn’t it?” 

The easy exchange sent a pang through Hal’s chest, and he realised in that moment just how badly he wanted that with Dick. It was a sweet moment, a fond greeting, and while he and Dick did do that, it was the domesticity that sealed the deal. They didn’t have that - _couldn’t_ have that - while Hal spent so much time away from home.

 _Home._ It was odd how even his concept of that had changed when it had only been three months. They hadn’t even dated for all of that.

They all dug into their dinner, setting aside the covers so they could tackle their food. There was a pleased silence for a few bites, with a couple of appreciative murmurs of thanks to Alfred. Hal swore that he could feel eyes on him, but when he sent a subtle look around the table, he came up blank. 

And then Jim spoke. “So,” he said, cutting off a forkful of lasagne, “you’re Hal, right?”

“Yeah, that’s me.” Hal managed a cheeky little grin. “Nice to meet you, Commissioner. I’ve heard a lot about you.”

Jim shot a look at Bruce, who pretended to be very interested in his dinner. “Huh. You know,” he said, shifting his gaze back to Hal, “from what Bruce said about League stuff, I thought you were older.”

Hal raised an eyebrow. “You thought I was older?”

“Yeah.” Jim pointed his fork at Bruce. “Closer to Bruce’s age than Dick’s.”

Hal blinked. Well, that threw a wrench in his ‘Bruce liked to talk down to him’ theory. Maybe he really did hold his own in meetings after all. “Nope. I’m nowhere near as old as Spooky. It’s only about a year between me and Dick, right?”

“Yeah,” Dick said, nodding as he scooped up another bite. “A year and a few months.”

“Huh,” Jim repeated, head tilted slightly. Whatever it was he was checking, Hal seemed to pass, because he nodded a moment later and Hal felt his attention dissipate. “Well, welcome, Hal. Hope these guys haven’t scared you off yet.”

“Hard to be scared off when I’ve worked with Bruce for a few years,” Hal shot back, smiling, only to realise that Bruce’s eyes had snapped up to him. “What? I hate to tell you, but you’re much scarier as Batman.”

Bruce arched an eyebrow, and as a smile played on his lips, Hal had the distinct feeling that he’d walked right into a battle that he wasn’t prepared for. “So, when you jumped a mile in the air earlier, that was because I’m Batman? It wasn’t anything at all to do with me being Dick’s father and coming across you two?”

“Oh, now this is interesting.” Jason set down his fork, twisting in his seat to get a better view. “What were you two up to?”

“Don’t,” Tim groaned, wincing. “Don’t, Jason. I’m eating.”

Dick rolled his eyes. “Bruce found us talking, Tim, it’s okay. We weren’t doing anything.” 

“As delightful as this conversation is for dinner,” Damian said, dry, “I would prefer if we moved away from the topic of their escapades. Wouldn’t you agree, Father?”

“Please,” Dick added, faintly desperate. 

Hal had never thought he’d be so thankful to Damian, but there he was, wishing he could reach across the table and hug him. By the sounds of things, it wouldn’t be well received, but the kid still deserved some kind of thanks for that.

“Correct,” Alfred chimed in. He peered down the table, and when his gaze landed on Damian, he said, “In that case, Master Damian, would you like to tell us about your day at school?”

As Damian perked up and happily led the conversation, Hal felt a hand nudge his knee under the table. Dick gave it a gentle, reassuring squeeze before withdrawing again, and he gladly sunk into the background to enjoy his admittedly delicious dinner. When the attention wasn’t on him, he enjoyed the chatter and the natural warmth of the family around him, and he surprised himself when he realised how _comfortable_ he felt there.

All in all, Dick had been right. It was _more_ than fine.

It was _fun._

* * *

Not even a full week later, John asked him to come back to Oa.

 _“Some Lanterns want to go off-planet,”_ he’d explained in hologram form. _“It’s not an emergency, but we need numbers back up here. Sorry, Hal.”_

And so, in the middle of the night, Hal suited up and flew over to Wayne Manor. Dick was awake - he’d texted him before he’d left his apartment, and Dick had confirmed that he was still up. Hal knew he could have left with just a message, but it didn’t feel _right,_ not now, not after that night at the manor. He wanted to see Dick so he could do this properly.

As he circled the mansion, he spotted an open window with a familiar face leaning out of it. Hal’s heart squeezed painfully in his chest. 

“Hey,” he said as he came to a standstill next to Dick’s window. “Sorry to keep you up.”

“It’s okay.” There was a sad little look on Dick’s face as he took in Hal’s outfit. “You’re going back?”

“Yeah.” 

Dick sighed as he folded his arms on the windowsill. “I thought so.” He smiled, but it didn’t quite reach his eyes. “You were being too serious for it to be a booty call.”

Hal laughed softly. He laid his fingers on the windowsill, just to bump them against Dick’s bare forearms. He couldn’t feel anything through his gloves, but he could pretend. “I wish I had time for it to be a booty call. I wanted to come and…”

His throat closed up on the words. Dick tilted his head, and his features were filled with such gentle understanding that Hal almost wanted to leap in through the window to hug him.

“Say goodbye,” Dick finished for him.

“Yeah.” Hal swallowed hard. “I wanted to come and say goodbye.”

One of Dick’s hands drifted down to rest over Hal’s. “Do you know how long you’ll be?”

They both knew that it was a hopeful question that Hal couldn’t answer. “I don’t know,” he said, shaking his head. “Lanterns are going off of Oa, so… I don’t know how long I need to cover for, or if anything will happen in the meantime.”

Dick nodded once. He was looking down at their hands, seeming to study the way his fingers naturally settled into the dips between Hal’s. The sight was too much for Hal, though, and he forced himself to keep his gaze on Dick’s face. “That makes sense,” Dick said quietly. He exhaled through his nose, and his lips tugged up at one corner of his mouth. “This was nice.”

“It was,” Hal agreed, just as softly. “Tell Alfred thanks for the lasagne.” 

“I think he could tell you liked it,” Dick laughed. “Did you get to eat your leftovers?”

“Dick, I finished those off the _next day.”_

As Hal smiled at him, Dick started to mirror it, and Hal wondered if maybe he should just give up and ask Dick right there if they wanted to make things official. He wouldn’t dare to, not when he was about to leave for an unknown period of time with no way of talking to Dick, but… 

He did think about it. 

As he took Dick’s hand in his own, he squeezed gently. “I need to go. I’ve got a long flight.”

Before he could release his hand, though, Dick’s other came up to fist in the front of Hal’s suit and tug him in. Dick’s lips crashed against his, desperate in a way that was entirely different to the kind Hal was used to from him. His free hand fluttered up to cup Dick’s cheek, his thumb brushing over it in a tender gesture that he didn’t care to stop.

When they parted, Hal let his fingers go lax and slip away from Dick’s. “I’ll text you,” he said, drifting backwards. “Remember, if you’re still interested when I’m back…”

“Ask you for dinner,” Dick finished. He propped his chin up on his hand, and that bittersweet look was back on his face. “I know. Stay safe out there.”

Hal gave Dick a lazy little salute. “You, too.”

Dick didn’t make a move to close the window, so it was on Hal to end it. He turned away, ignoring the way it felt like his heart was splitting in two, and willed himself to soar up into the night sky, vanishing amongst the clouds. When he eventually glanced back down at Earth, Gotham was little more than a dot in the distance, and when he was swallowed up by the stars, it was far enough away that all Hal could see was green and blue.

* * *

Until recently, Hal had liked his living quarters on Oa. It wasn’t his apartment on Earth, but it was a space to call his own; he had a bed that he didn’t use for sleeping, and a few personal effects scattered around his room. There wasn’t much else that a Lantern needed, really. The Citadel provided everything else, including food that they didn’t need to eat and places to train.

It felt empty now. 

Hal sunk down onto the edge of his bed to stare at the opposite wall. Green, just like everything else here. It was all constructed by Lanterns, after all. 

He slumped back against the bed and let his eyes drift closed. Dick came to mind, of course. Hal couldn’t help thinking about that sad smile and the last kiss. 

He missed him.

* * *

“You seem preoccupied, Hal.”

“Is it that obvious?”

John was staring at him, Hal could feel it. He stared down at his food - something alien that Hal liked enough; the cooks here were good, but they couldn’t quite replicate Earth cuisine all of the time, and he did sometimes like to try new things - and pretended that John wasn’t about to pry open the one heavy thing on his mind. They’d come dangerously close before, so he wasn’t really surprised that he was trying to check in.

“It’s obvious,” John said, and Hal sighed into his food. “You’re usually so good with the recruits, but you haven’t been yourself when you’ve been running drills. What’s up?”

Hal picked at his… whatever it was on his tray, twisting his fork through what _sort of_ looked like spaghetti. “Nothing,” he lied, “it’s fine, just Earth stuff.” He frowned. Had he really been bad enough that Kilowog had noticed? He must have been if John was asking about it. He’d been with Kilowog with the recruits, so he’d obviously passed it onto another human Lantern in the hope that he could deal with it.

“You wanna talk about it?” John said, carefully not looking at him.

“No.” Hal dropped his fork with a huff. “Yeah. Yeah, I do wanna talk about it.”

John nudged his own tray away, and he twisted to straddle the bench he and Hal were sitting on so he was facing him. “Alright, let’s hear it.” 

Hal let out a long, steady exhale. “I met someone on Earth,” he said, looking carefully down at his his hands. “It’s… really good, but it’s on and off. We keep breaking it off whenever I come back out to Oa.”

“Whose idea was that?”

“Both of us, really.” Hal grimaced. “Not my proudest moment. I didn’t want to tie him down, and now I need to stick to it.”

“Do you, though?” When John didn’t elaborate, Hal glanced over at him, frowning, until John smiled and relented. “Do you need to stick to it?”

Hal raised his eyebrows. “Uh, yeah. I still have to keep coming out here. I’m still Green Lantern.”

“Exactly.” John’s smile turned into a full grin. “Does he know you’re Green Lantern?”

“Yeah, why?”

Something just wasn’t clicking for Hal. He didn’t know what it was that he was missing, because Hal had been over all of the possibilities. In just the few weeks he’d been back already, he’d spent his personal time thinking about any kind of solution that might have eluded him before. Only two had ever presented themselves to him.

He could break it off with Dick for good, which was a route he really didn’t want to take. There was something there, something that was too damn nice, and Hal was, at heart, pretty damn selfish. 

Alternatively, he could ask Dick to make it official, even when they were apart. The only problem was the distance. Hal had left things open for both of them when they were separate, but he’d never even thought about sleeping with someone else. It just… hadn’t crossed his mind, despite the opportunity right there.

He was frighteningly head over heels for Dick.

“If he knows,” John said patiently, “then why bother breaking it off?”

Tiredly, Hal held up one finger. “Can’t talk to him while I’m here.” He uncurled a second. “I’m gone for weird amounts of time.” A third. “I’m Green fucking Lantern and I could end up dying out here without him even knowing.” His hand dropped back to the table with a solid thump.

He could feel John’s faintly amused stare, and Hal looked pointedly in the other direction. “I’m sure he gets all of that if he took you back when you last visited.” 

Hal didn’t like that John’s logic was sound. It wasn’t fair. He raked his fingers through his hair, grimacing. “He gets it more than you realise,” he sighed. “I’m sure he’d be fine with it, but I…”

John leaned to the side, inching into the corners of Hal’s peripheral vision. “What do you mean, ‘he gets it’?”

Rubbing at his temples, Hal muttered, “He’s a hero, too. Don’t ask who, I’m not telling.”

“Ah.” John sat up straight again, retreating from Hal’s view. “So he _would_ be fine with it.”

“And he could _also_ get hurt in the line of duty, so I don’t want to stand in the way of him living his life,” Hal finished simply. It was a mouthful, but it was a thought that haunted Hal every time he considered taking that step with Dick. The last thing he wanted was for something to befall Dick while Hal was gallivanting around space, knowing that they were a ridiculous distance apart. If Hal bowed out now, at least Dick had the chance of finding someone else before something inevitably happened to one of them.

He just wanted Dick to be happy. That was it.

John didn’t have an answer for him this time. He just clasped Hal’s shoulder, squeezed, and dropped it again as he turned back to his food. “I’m sorry,” he said quietly. “That’s tough. I don’t really know what to say.”

Hal waved him off. “It’s okay. I know it’s complicated.”

He was the one who had gotten himself into this mess, after all. Dick had suggested it, and Hal had agreed, desperate to get just a little more out of whatever he was allowed with Dick. It had been selfish of him, but even now, as he felt the pain of missing him, Hal couldn’t bring himself to regret the decision.

* * *

One thing the Lanterns liked to do to wind down was race. Oa was fairly uninhabited aside from the Citadel, which meant there was plenty of open, desert-like space. It wasn’t uncommon to see recruits and fully trained Lanterns taking advantage of it to enjoy their flight powers, darting back and forth through constructed courses. It was a great way to blow off steam, one that even Hal had taken part in multiple times.

He watched now as recruits soared through the air, whooping as they swooped down to meet the next bright green gate. Hal hadn’t decided if he was going to take part yet, or if he’d just keep a watchful eye. Kilowog had taken a position somewhere in between, and he stood firmly on the ground as he constructed rings overhead, shifting and changing to keep the recruits on their toes. It was a good combination of fun and training; the recruits had to keep up, but they also got to laugh. 

Dick would find it entertaining, he thought. It was the exact kind of camaraderie and showmanship that he knew Dick would appreciate. Hal had no doubt in his mind that he would have been driven to join in just to amuse Dick, and maybe he would have pulled a few tricks as he flew just to make him laugh.

Hal puffed out a short breath through his nose. He knew he was in trouble, but he didn’t have to like it.

Someone tapped him on the shoulder, and his heart jumped. When he turned, he found John by his side again. “Jesus, you’re gonna scare me if you sneak up on me like that,” Hal said, cracking a smile. 

“It’s not my fault flight makes you silent,” John chuckled. “Are you gonna race?”

“Maybe. Haven’t decided yet.”

“Wow.” John settled in to hover next to Hal. Flying was effortless - all it took was a little bit of will - and since he was on Oa, Hal had figured why not? “You, not wanting to race? You really are feeling down, aren’t you?”

Hal rolled his eyes. “I’m just watching, John. We don’t need the recruits taking a fall they can’t handle.”

 _“And_ you’re responsible. Your guy must have really done a number on you.”

Frowning, Hal folded his arms and pointedly watched the trainees instead. “If you’re gonna be an ass, I’m flying over there instead,” he said. “I didn’t tell you about him to give you ammo.” 

“Alright, alright.” John held up his hands in surrender, and his smile was kinder now, gentler. “Sorry. I actually came to bring you a solution to your problem, but if you don’t want it...”

Hal twisted in the air to squint at John. He hated the traitorous way his heart skipped a beat, desperate for any chance at easing the problem with Dick. “What problem?” he asked, wary. 

It was only then that Hal noticed two watches strapped to John’s wrist. They were bright green, of course, and the face of them was purposefully sculpted to look like the Lantern logo, but in the centre of the circle, there was a glassy substance. John unclasped them so he could hand them over, looking pleased with himself.

“Did you forget about the communicators we have?” he asked, eyebrows raised.

Hal turned them over in his hands, just to have something to do with them. “I… I didn’t forget, but I didn’t think it’d be appropriate. It’s why I didn’t ask.”

“Why wouldn’t it be appropriate?” John drifted closer to him so he could rest his hand on Hal’s shoulder. “People use them for talking to non-Lanterns all the time.”

“John, there’s a difference between giving one to another hero and giving one to someone on Earth.” Still, Hal didn’t let go of them yet. They felt like a lifeline, a sure way to make something of what he had with Dick. Even if Dick didn’t want him when he got back, Hal enjoyed his company, and he knew they could have a solid friendship if nothing else. 

Hal glanced up again when he heard a quiet chuckle. “What?”

“I thought he _was_ a hero?”

Hal kept his mouth shut. John had trapped him with very sound logic there, and Hal couldn’t see a way out. Truth be told, he wasn’t even sure _why_ he was trying to find an escape route.

“He is,” Hal agreed eventually. He laid the first of the communicators on his wrist and began to buckle the strap, trying and failing to hold back a smile. “Thanks, John. Sorry for snapping at you earlier.”

John patted him on the shoulder, light and friendly. “It’s fine, Hal. I’m just happy to help.”

* * *

Kilowog squinted at him as they passed in the barracks - or, well, Hal assumed he squinted, because it was kind of hard to tell what expression Kilowog was making most of the time. Generally, it seemed like he scowled, but he’d started to figure out what his smiles looked like, or what exact frown meant he was angry. Learning all of the little tells was almost a language in itself, and it was one that Hal’s ring couldn’t help him with.

This time, he figured Kilowog seemed curious. “You wanna help with training later?” he asked, pausing. His bulk took up most of the hallway - which, really, how had the Lanterns designed this and not laid out more space? - so Hal flattened his back against the wall in what he hoped was a casual way.

“Sure,” Hal said, folding his arms lazily. “What’s the plan?”

Kilowog shrugged one great shoulder. “No idea yet. I’m thinking sparring. Works better with two of us.” He considered Hal for a moment, as if sizing him up. “If you’re up to it, anyway.”

Hal grinned. “Why wouldn’t I be?” 

He knew it wasn’t up to his usual standard, but it was pretty damn close. John’s gift of the communicators had lifted his spirits to an unbelievable degree, and now he was just waiting on a signal to go home again so he could figure out how to give one to Dick. He had no idea how he was going to pull that off just yet, but Hal had always preferred winging it over planning anyway. 

Kilowog snorted. It sort of reminded Hal of a bull preparing to charge, and he would have been worried if it hadn’t been for Kilowog’s toothy smile. “You’ve had your head up your ass for months, Hal. I’ve had to resort to others for help.”

Hal laid a hand over his heart. “Ouch. That hurts, you know.”

“So does asking Gardner for help.”

“Okay, fair,” Hal laughed. “I’m sure the recruits are doing fine.”

“They are,” Kilowog growled, “which means the training isn’t. You’re good. I need someone who won’t screw around.”

He reached out to pat Kilowog’s arm, biting the inside of his cheek to hold back a laugh. “Alright, alright, big guy. I’ll help. I’m just gonna grab some food, then I’ll join you, okay? I won’t be long.”

“Good.” Kilowog nodded, and then he turned to continue on his way down the hallway. Hal wasn’t surprised by the abrupt end in conversation; it was so very Kilowog to be so matter of fact, so directly to the point. Once he was done, that was it. He was just efficient and blunt, and he had better things to do than stand around and chat.

Before Hal got too much closer to the mess hall, though, Kilowog’s booming voice echoed after him. “It’s good to have you back, Hal.”

He spun on his heel, and there Kilowog was, watching him with what was definitely a crooked smile. “It’s good to be back, buddy!” he called, lifting a hand to wave.

Because the thing was, even with how wrapped up he’d been in thoughts of Dick, Hal _loved_ this. He was torn between two things he wanted desperately - a certain someone and being _Green fucking Lantern_ \- and it was splitting him right down the middle. Really, he couldn’t quite give up either option. Green Lantern was who he was, and Dick, well.

Dick was who he _wanted._

* * *

It had been a long day of patrolling - if Hal could call it a day when time was as broken as it was this far out into space - and Hal had barely touched down on Oa when he got the good news.

He could go home. 

He’d spent two months on Oa, two months patrolling and training new recruits, and now he could make a trip back to Earth. In his buzz of excitement, Hal briefly forgot that he didn’t need to pack anything to take back with him.

Well, there was _one_ thing he needed to bring.

His own communicator had stayed on his wrist since John had given it to him. Dick’s sat beside it on his arm for now, just for safe keeping during his flight. 

He took off as soon as he was cleared, zooming off into the stars with a burst of speed he usually saved for racing. Before now, Hal had often enjoyed the trip back to Earth; it was like taking a long drive and enjoying the scenery on the way, except his surroundings were the inky black expanse of space and the planets dotted throughout it. It was an unusual and gorgeous sight, and it was one that Hal took for granted now as he sped past.

When he spotted the Justice League Watchtower, Hal stepped inside for a breather, and to send an important text. Nobody else was around - thank God; he didn’t think he’d live it down if he saw Bruce right now when he was clearly eager to get back to Earth - so Hal tucked himself inside the bay door that was reserved for other space heroes like him, pulled his phone from his pocket, and switched it on. 

He didn’t linger. He typed out three simple words, and then he stepped back outside, grinning as he flew.

_I’m coming home._


	3. Chapter 3

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> You can find me on tumblr @capedcommissioner!
> 
> Incest/Batcest shippers: do not interact. Comments are now moderated because people who ship Batcest kept interacting anyway. As long as you don't have Batcest in your works or bookmarks, your comment will be approved regardless of what it says, positive or negative or just a keyboard smash. I just don't want Batcest shippers anywhere near my work.

Dick spent a lot of time thinking about that last kiss. 

He wouldn’t admit it to anyone who asked - except for maybe Bruce, though he didn’t say anything - but he missed Hal. His thoughts circled around that goodbye at his bedroom window more than he’d expected, lingering on the barely hidden pain on Hal’s face when he’d pulled away. Hal was many things, but he wasn’t the best at covering up his emotions like that.

Dick was better, but still not great. He knew that. His whole _family_ knew that. 

He didn’t let it get to him this time, though. Sure, he circled around his memories of Hal when he was trying to get some sleep, but when he was out in the world as either Dick Grayson or Nightwing, he slipped back into the day to day things that were expected of him. He patrolled, he helped Alfred around the house, he trained, and he spouted smart quips as he handed over criminals to the GCPD.

It was two long months before he heard from Hal. It was just a text while Dick was out on the rooftops of Gotham, but it made his heart buzz in his chest.

_I’m coming home._

_Welcome back. How was Oa?_

No response. Dick tucked his phone back into the compartment in his sleeve after a moment, scanning the streets around him as his mind raced. Hal had probably just passed the Watchtower then. If he was home, he was usually pretty good about replying once he’d started a conversation - unless he’d passed out immediately, which was possible, he supposed.

It was another hour before Dick felt his phone vibrate against his forearm. He was a little busy flipping over a criminal, though, so he didn’t get to it until after the guy was in cuffs and being pushed into a cop car by a tired looking Jim. “Thanks, Nightwing,” he sighed, rooting through his pockets and coming out with a pack of cigarettes. 

“What are you doing out here?” Dick asked. He leaned casually against the wall next to him, ignoring the way his curiosity had zeroed in on his phone. “You’re the commissioner, not a beat cop.”

“We’re a little understaffed tonight.” Jim clicked his lighter and took a few puffs of his newly burning cigarette. “I figured I’d take the weight off and come get the guy since it’s you.”

Dick grinned at him, laying a hand over his heart. “You came all this way for little old me?”

“I always do when it’s you guys.” Jim slouched against the wall next to Dick with a fond little smile. “You think I’m gonna pass up the chance to hang out for a minute?”

“Slacking, Commissioner?” Dick teased. “Don’t let Batman hear that.”

Jim chuckled around his cigarette. “Batman slacks, too. Sometimes he comes to the Batsignal for a chat, you know.”

“I know.” Dick fondly remembered going there with Bruce when he was just Robin. Jim had been kind to him even then, before he knew about Bruce and started dating him. Really, Dick thought, Jim had always been another father figure to him, but he just hadn’t noticed until Bruce brought him home as Jim, not Commissioner Gordon.

Jim tapped at the end of his cigarette with a sigh, watching as the ash tumbled down to the pavement. “I’d better get going. I need to get this guy in a cell before heading home. You need a ride back?”

“Nah, I’m gonna look around a little more.” That, and he was desperate to see what Hal’s reply was. “See you at home, Jim.”

Jim crushed the cigarette under his heel - only half-finished, Dick noticed, and he wondered if that was deliberate - and dug his keys out of his pocket. “Stay safe, kid,” he said, nodding at him as he headed for the car. 

Dick raised his hand in a little wave. “See you later, Commissioner.”

As Jim’s car disappeared around the corner, Dick grappled up onto the nearest roof. Once he was sure it was safe, he pulled his phone out again and tapped the little bubble with the start of Hal’s message.

_Sorry, just got back to the apartment. Oa was fine - boring, but fine. What are you doing up so late?_

_Work. I’m about to finish for the night._

Dick paused, hesitating only a moment, and then ploughed ahead.

_If you’re hungry, I can bring dinner._

It was a ballsy move, and Dick almost regretted sending the text. Either way, he was definitely hungry after a night out in Gotham, and he didn’t exactly want to disturb Alfred’s kitchen to make something before bed. If he could bring food back to Hal’s, though…

_I’m not hungry, but I’ll take the dinner and the company._

_Give me an hour._

* * *

All it took as a quick trip back to the manor for a change of clothes, and then Dick headed out again with the intention of grabbing whatever food he found on the way. He shot Bruce a text as he left, reassuring him of his whereabouts so he wouldn’t worry when he woke, and then set off on foot, ignoring how tired he felt. It would be worth it to crash with Hal and get the most out of their time together.

When he arrived, he had two sub sandwiches in a bag on his wrist, and as soon as the door was open he had an armful of Hal.

_Hal._

Dick melted against the wall as Hal nudged him back against it to kiss him, trying desperately to hold back his smile so it didn’t break them apart before they were ready. It was tough, though, when he was so genuinely _happy_ to see him.

“Welcome back,” Dick murmured against his lips. At some point, his fingers had tangled in the sides of Hal’s shirt, and he relaxed them now so he could smooth out the wrinkles. “If I get a hello like that for bringing you food, I’m gonna do it more often.”

Hal laughed in that warm, familiar way, and he moved back just enough that Dick could see his face. He looked tired, though he knew that it wasn’t a physical kind of tiredness; the ring was still on his finger, after all, but Hal could also sleep like the dead given the chance. His hands had landed on Dick’s shoulders, and they were still there as they stood together, though one crept up to idly play with the ends of Dick’s hair.

“I did tell you that food was the way to my heart,” Hal reminded him, grinning. “It’s also just good to see you.”

Dick felt his heart soften. “It’s good to see you, too.”

Something flickered in Hal’s eyes, swept away again in seconds to be replaced by a smile. “So, what did you bring?”

Hal backed away from him to head further into the apartment. Dick toed off his shoes at the door before he followed. “Sandwiches. It was pretty much all I could get at this hour.”

“Sandwiches are good. You want anything to drink?”

“Just water, thanks.”

They set up to eat in the living room, and Dick did his best to not wolf down his food. He still finished ahead of Hal, though not by much, and it wasn’t long before he was tucked in against Hal’s side, basking in the warmth he seemed to radiate. It seemed unreal to have him back, to be in Hal’s apartment with him again. 

He hadn’t even realised he’d started dozing off on his shoulder until Hal pressed his lips to his forehead. Dick felt his smile, and it drew him out of his hazy thoughts. “Mm?”

“Come on, let’s head to bed. You’ve already been up all night.”

Dick clumsily pushed himself upright to stretch. “Mm, yeah. Sorry, didn’t mean to fall asleep on you. I guess I was more tired than I thought.”

“It’s fine.” There was a gentle look on Hal’s face, full of something that Dick couldn’t decipher when he was so exhausted. “It was cute, actually, but I don’t think you wanna sleep on this couch. I’ve tried, it’s not the greatest.”

Hal stood, offering him a hand, and Dick took it gladly. Their fingers intertwined, just like they always did, as Hal tugged him towards the bedroom. Dick went willingly, and when Hal offered him some spare sweats to sleep in, he accepted those too. By the time his head hit the pillow, he was already mostly asleep, and the feeling of Hal’s arms wrapped around him was what finally let him drift off.

* * *

When Dick woke, the sun was streaming in through Hal’s curtains, casting a warm glow throughout his bedroom. He was comfortably cosy under the covers, even with Hal acting as his own personal radiator next to him. 

Carefully, Dick opened his eyes to peer out beyond the sheets, and he was greeted with the sight of a sleeping Hal. His face was half tucked in against his pillows, and his lips were parted as he breathed slow and deep. Bare shoulders peeked out from beneath the covers, only for one of his hands to vanish under his pillow again as he propped himself up slightly in his sleep. His hair was usually a little messy in a handsome way, but now it spilled across his face, obscuring his features as he snoozed on, unaware that Dick had stirred.

Dick could get used to this.

He stayed there for a moment, basking like a cat in the warmth, before he rolled over to face the bedside table and reach for his phone. He’d already lingered on thoughts like that too much, both when Hal was and wasn’t here, and while he desperately wanted to cuddle up to Hal and go back to sleep, he didn’t know how wise it would be. There had been a warm reception, but given another month, he’d be right back to sleeping on his own again.

So, instead, Dick scrolled through the notifications on his phone. There was one from Bruce letting him know he’d seen his text, one from Jim wishing him a good sleep. So far, his brothers hadn’t sent anything.

As Dick typed out a reply to Bruce, an arm circled around his waist, and Hal fit himself against his back with a quiet, sleepy hum. His hand dipped down to rest over Dick’s bare abdomen, idly stroking over the exposed skin there. 

Smiling, Dick set his phone down and glanced over his shoulder. “Morning.”

“Mm, morning.” Hal hadn’t opened his eyes yet, and he didn’t seem like he was about to. Instead, he tugged Dick back against his chest and let his hand wander, drawing circles against Dick’s hip. “How long have you been awake?”

“Not long.” Dick closed his eyes too, sinking back into the warmth of Hal behind him. 

Hal nuzzled his shoulderblade idly, and his arm tightened around Dick. Despite his reservations, Dick was more than happy to indulge now, enjoying the way Hal’s fingertips drifted up his side. They trailed up, passed across his chest, and then made their way back down again in a long, winding circle.

“What are you doing?” Dick chuckled. He stretched lazily, and when he settled again, Hal somehow managed to press himself closer.

“I’m just exploring,” he said, pressing a kiss against Dick’s skin. “And, you know, seeing if you’re interested.” Hal’s hand dipped further down as he spoke, resting over Dick’s abdomen like a promise. A slow pulse of arousal, more appreciation for the thought than actual heat yet, settled low in his stomach.

“Seeing if I’m interested,” Dick repeated, smiling.

“Mhm.” Hal’s thumb brushed back and forth over his skin. “To celebrate me being back, of course.”

“Of course,” Dick agreed. Gently, he shifted, pressing his hips back against Hal’s. There was a sharp intake of breath from behind him, close to his ear, and then Hal returned the motion with a slow, purposeful roll. He was already half hard, Dick realised.

Hal’s hand drifted down to his hip, his fingers curling loosely around it. _“Are_ you interested?”

Dick breathed out a quiet laugh. “I’m _always_ interested, Hal.” He rocked back against him again, enjoying the way Hal muffled a soft noise against his bare shoulder.

“In that case…” Hal’s hand moved again, and Dick exhaled a pleased sigh as it pressed against him through his borrowed sweats. It was a slow, sweet kind of pleasure, the sort that made him lean into Hal’s palm to chase it in the laziest, most unhurried way possible.

Right now, Dick didn’t even have to think about Hal leaving. He’d just made it back to Earth, and, at least for now, he was here to stay.

Hal’s fingers curled _just_ so, and Dick shivered. 

“Can I get rid of the sweats?” Hal murmured, his lips pressed against Dick’s bare skin.

The corners of Dick’s mouth tugged up into a little grin. “Yours or mine?”

“Either,” Hal chuckled. “Both.” He paused, grinding against Dick’s ass again, and then groaned, “Definitely both.”

Dick wasted no time in shoving his own down past his hips, leaving both the sweats and his underwear to pool around his knees and calves. He and Hal bumped against each other as they clumsily undressed, knocking elbows and legs as they disentangled themselves, and Dick’s heart swooped at the sound of Hal’s carefree laughter. 

Hal fit himself against Dick’s back again, and he was reminded of just how _warm_ Hal was. He was like a furnace, heating Dick up to the point that he kicked the covers off of them just to get some cool air on his skin. 

It didn’t help when Hal’s hand dipped right back down to where it had started, circling around Dick’s cock this time. He hummed out a little noise at the first touch, tossing his own hand back to skim over what he could reach of Hal’s side and hip. “Shit, Hal,” he breathed, shivering as his thumb pressed gently above the head. “Hold on, let me get lube-”

He passed it back to Hal once he was situated again, sighing in relief when Hal’s hand came back cool and wet. 

“Better?” Hal asked, a touch amused.

Dick huffed out the ghost of a laugh as Hal eased his hand up his cock, twisting when he reached the head. It made his toes curl against the sheets. “Much better,” he breathed. Just Hal’s hand felt better than his own, or maybe that was just the months apart. 

He pressed back against Hal, delighting in the groan that rumbled against his shoulder as Hal rocked against his thigh. His smirk died within seconds, though, when Hal squeezed his hand a little tighter as he stroked Dick; a moan ripped itself out of Dick’s throat, louder than he’d intended, but it was worth it for the way Hal’s breath hitched behind him.

Dick flung out a hand, searching amongst the sheets for the bottle of lube. The seed of an idea had formed in his half distracted brain, and he was desperate to offer it to give Hal some better stimulation.

“What?” Hal asked, hooking his chin over Dick’s shoulder.

“Lube,” he grumbled, fingers tripping clumsily as they slapped at the mattress; Hal had switched to a trailing brush of his fingers, one that was more teasing than satisfying. “I wanna get you off, too.”

“Worry about me later.” Hal’s lips pressed against the corner of Dick’s jaw, his teeth gently scraping. “I’m busy.”

Dick groaned at the firm press of his thumb over the slit. It sent sharp shivers of pleasure through him, rocketing up his spine. “So am I,” he hissed, triumphant when his hand closed around the bottle. “Here-”

Hal finally, mercifully slowed down as his curiosity got the better of him. He felt the weight of Hal’s gaze as he poured some lube out onto his palm, and then dipped down to brush past Hal’s arm so he could press his hand between his thighs. It didn’t really matter that it was cool to the touch still; Dick swiped the lube across his inner thighs, neatly coating the skin there.

He _felt_ the moment it sunk in for Hal: he inhaled sharply against his jaw, and he pressed himself a little closer. “Dick?”

“There.” Dick capped the lube again before tossing it aside. “Now you don’t have to wait.”

“Fuck,” Hal breathed. His hand had come to a standstill, but he gently squeezed again now. “That’s… that’s hot, Dick.”

Grinning, Dick hooked his leg around one of Hal’s to give him room. “That’s the idea.”

Briefly, Hal let go of him, snaking his hand back behind Dick to guide himself between his legs. It returned not long after, though Hal’s fingers stumbled in their rhythm when Dick squeezed his thighs together around his cock. It ripped a groan out of him that Hal hastily tried to muffle against Dick’s shoulder, but it rattled right through Dick’s chest anyway, bouncing around in his ribcage like he’d made the sound himself. Hal’s hips jerked against him, clumsy with the sudden pressure and pleasure.

 _“Fuck.”_ Hal hissed out a breath between his teeth as he rolled his hips. “Jesus fucking _Christ,_ Dick.”

His hand steadied on Dick’s cock again, picking up right where he’d left off. Dick gasped at the slick slide of his fingers, his thighs trembling as he tried to keep them pressed tight around him. “Hal,” he gasped, his own hand flying up to hold onto Hal’s forearm. He could feel the muscle shifting under his skin there, flexing as he touched Dick, and it made his head spin.

It was a unique sensation, feeling Hal fuck between his thighs. So far, they’d kept things relatively similar in all the times they’d slept together: if they had sex, Hal usually bottomed. It had never been much of a discussion; instead, things just tended to work out that way, and that was more than fine with Dick. Personally, he thought Hal looked _amazing_ underneath him, and Dick thoroughly enjoyed turning him into a whining, desperate mess.

Being on the receiving end, even in this way, was interesting. Definitely enjoyable, especially with the way Hal buried his face into the crook of Dick’s neck as he rocked. Dick could feel every noise he made as it vibrated against his skin, right there alongside the desperate kisses Hal layered against his neck and shoulder, and it left him biting back a moan as he chased Hal’s hand.

 _“Fuck,_ Hal.” Dick shuddered as Hal’s hand sped up, twisting with every other stroke. Hal knew by now exactly what Dick liked, and somehow he was pulling it off just fine, despite how jerky and desperate his thrusts were. Pleasure tingled at the ends of Dick’s toes, and his fingers dug into the muscle of Hal’s forearm.

 _“Dick,”_ Hal groaned, his hips stumbling over their rhythm. “I’m close, shit-”

Dick buried his face half into the pillow as his breath hitched; it was ridiculously hot that Hal was that worked up, and it sent Dick spiralling deeper with him. He pressed back into Hal, rolling with his movements desperately: back against Hal’s hips, then forwards into his hand. Hal scraped his teeth over a spot on his neck, working at it to leave a mark, and the realisation made Dick jerk and shiver.

He came suddenly, his breath punching out of him in a surprised moan. Hal’s hand squeezed around him just a little more, just on the right side of too tight as Dick fucked into the circle of his fingers. He shivered in Hal’s arms, thighs twitching as he tried to keep them clamped tight even as he came into Hal’s palm. 

It was worth it for the whimpering sound Hal pressed into his shoulder, and for the way his hips sped up for just a few more seconds. As Dick started to come down from his high, his extremities tingling with the lingering aftershocks, he felt Hal come between his thighs; they were already slick with lube, but when Hal pressed firmly against him one more time, he felt a telltale warmth along with the sound of his name. Dick shivered, and idly wished he could get hard again immediately to roll over and do it all over again. 

Two months without Hal really did just make him desperate, he realised.

“Fuck,” Hal laughed breathlessly. His hand dropped to the mattress, palm up to avoid getting it wet. “Well, that definitely was a celebration.”

Dick chuckled as he stretched lazily. Hal winced behind him as he jostled him, and Dick reluctantly peeled himself away from Hal to let him pull free. “Good. Figured I’d do something fun since for it.”

He rolled over to face Hal, and saw that he’d flopped onto his back. His clean hand was behind his head, propping himself up against the pillows, and Dick briefly considered the comfortable looking spot against his chest, but the tackiness between his thighs convinced him otherwise. 

“Oh, it was _definitely_ fun.” Hal grinned at him. “You sure know how to make a guy feel special.”

“I tried.” Dick shrugged, and then, unable to help himself, he leaned in to kiss Hal, nice and slow and sweet. When they parted, he wrinkled his nose. “I _do_ really, really want to shower, though. You wanna join me?”

“You in the shower? Say no more.” Hal pushed himself upright, and he stole another kiss before he swung his legs off the edge of the bed. 

Dick grinned after him, caught up once more in the realisation that Hal was _here._ He was home on Earth, where Dick could touch him and talk to him, not thousands and thousands of miles away on another planet. He could make Hal laugh and he could make him smile, and he got to witness all of that firsthand all over again instead of relying on his memories. 

When Hal offered him a hand, Dick took it. 

Even if this was limited, he’d take the time they had together.

* * *

Belatedly, Dick realised that he didn’t have any spare clothes to go home in. All he had was what he’d changed into that morning, just so he didn’t walk over to Hal’s in his Nightwing outfit. He really needed to get into the habit of bringing an overnight bag when he stayed over.

He frowned at himself in Hal’s bedroom mirror, tugging at the collar of his shirt. “This barely covers the hickey.”

Hal paused behind him, half dressed with a smirk on his lips. “Wear shirts with a higher neck,” he said, shrugging. 

Dick expected him to continue crossing his bedroom to finish getting dressed, but instead, Hal came up behind him, circling an arm around his waist. Something shivered through Dick’s chest at the sight of them cuddled together in the mirror; for once, he got to see how they looked together, and he _liked_ what he saw. 

They didn’t have any photos together - it wasn’t by design; they just hadn’t taken any - so this was a new experience. There was something edging on tender in the way Hal settled his chin on Dick’s shoulder and smiled at his reflection. It was almost too much, too _sweet._ Dick watched his own face as he blinked, surprised, before settling back into Hal’s hold with a breathless little laugh. 

“Wear shirts with a higher neck,” he repeated, neatly sidestepping the fluttery feeling in his chest. “Sure, let me just walk past my family first to _get_ one.”

“I could fly you to your room,” Hal suggested, grinning now. He looked incredibly pleased with himself, and if they hadn’t just showered, Dick would have considered turning the tables to get him in return. “Then you can change, and Bruce can’t have any reason to murder me and ask Jim to cover it up.”

Dick turned around in Hal’s arms, draping one of his own around Hal’s neck. “They’re not gonna murder you.” He rolled his eyes and leaned in to kiss Hal’s cheek. “And it’s fine, I’ll just zip up my jacket until I get upstairs.”

He didn’t want to go. He really, truly didn’t. The thing was, with another night patrol later, Dick needed to head home and get organised, especially since he was taking backup this time. 

Still, he ventured out into the living room to collect his things, leaving Hal behind to finish getting dressed. He tugged his jacket on, and as he was tucking his phone and wallet into their usual pockets, Hal emerged, his hands tucked behind his back.

“Dick.”

He paused, fingers on his zip. “Yeah?”

“I brought you something.” Hal rocked on his heels, looking like he was searching for the right words. “From Oa.”

Dick cocked his head. “Is that even allowed? I figured there’d be space laws about that.”

Hal laughed, and as he did, he loosened up. “There probably are, but it’s not like there’s much flora or fauna to mess with anyway.”

“So you have a secret gift shop on Oa.” 

“Not exactly.” 

Hal came closer, one hand coming forwards to take hold of Dick’s. He lifted it, nudging back Dick’s sleeve to expose his wrist. Carefully, giving Dick plenty of time to withdraw his hand, Hal strapped something that looked like a watch into place on Dick’s wrist; it was bright green, the same tone as Hal’s Lantern suit, with a glassy, blank face in the centre of the logo. 

Dick raised his eyebrows. “You guys have special Green Lantern smartwatches?”

“Something like that.” Hal smiled, all crooked and amused and familiar, and Dick’s pulse jumped with the brush of his fingers against the strap. “It’s one of two communicators. I’ve got the other one.” He looked up at Dick from underneath his eyelashes. “It means we can talk when I’m on Oa.”

Dick felt his heart leap up into his throat. He struggled to find the right words to say - sincere or funny? - and settled on somewhere in between. “Well, it’ll make those months a little less lonely if we can still talk.”

Hal puffed out a soft breath. “Tell me about it.” His thumb brushed over Dick’s hand, idly sweeping back and forth. “You don’t have to use it if you don’t want to. I get you might want a break from me when I’m not on Earth.” There was amusement in his voice, and Dick snorted quietly. “But, you know, if you want to next time I’m gone…”

It felt like a promise of something more, something that wasn’t just the awkward, on-and-off relationship they’d had so far. Dick wasn’t entirely sure what to do with that. He wanted it, of course, but he didn’t know what to expect from it.

“I can call you,” Dick finished, squeezing Hal’s fingers. “Huh. Guess we should’ve had one of these sooner.”

“I didn’t think about grabbing one,” Hal admitted. “It was John, actually.”

Hal had talked to a friend about their situation. Interesting. Dick definitely didn’t plan on dwelling on the meaning behind that, but he knew that he inevitably would. “Well, tell him I said thanks. Now we can both start a booty call across space.”

It was worth deflecting just to make Hal laugh. Dick grinned along with him, pleased with himself, and gladly accepted a kiss when Hal leaned in for one. He chuckled against his lips. “I look forward to it,” Hal snickered. “Barracks aren’t soundproof, though, so we’ll have to be careful.”

“Wouldn’t want to give them anything to tease you about,” Dick agreed. He hummed as he stole one more kiss, and then he reluctantly peeled himself away. “I should get back. I need to go out again tonight.”

“Come over when you’re done?” Hal’s eyes were just a little wide, a little bit pleading. 

Dick hesitated. “As long as you won’t complain when I wake you up.”

“Mm, worth it even if you do.” Hal squeezed his forearm. “Have a safe trip home. If Bruce wants to know where I am, I’m out in the depths of space where even he can’t find me.”

Rolling his sleeve down over the communicator, Dick arched an eyebrow and said, “You know, if he did find you out there - which he won’t - I’m pretty sure Earth laws wouldn’t apply. You’d probably be safer here or on Oa.”

Hal considered him for a moment, frowning. “Fair point. Considered. Still gonna fly _way_ out there if he tries anything.”

“He won’t,” Dick repeated. He gave in, leaning in to give Hal _another_ quick kiss as a goodbye before he made his way to the door. “Later, Hal.”

When he glanced back, he saw a warm, sweet smile on Hal’s face as he watched him. He leaned against the wall, all casual and comfortable, and it was a sight that Dick desperately wanted to see time and again. He’d never get tired of it.

Hal raised his hand, giving him a lazy salute. “Later, Dick.” 

Dick closed the door, and the image of Hal’s smile lingered.

* * *

Damian was the first to spot him when he came home, because of course he was. 

Dick let himself in the front door, and there was his youngest brother and his dog, standing there like he’d been expecting him. Slowly, cautiously, Dick closed the door, and then he offered Damian a smile. “Hey, Dami.”

“Good afternoon, Richard.” Damian narrowed his eyes. “Where have you been?”

“Hal’s in town.” Carefully, Dick tugged the zipper on his jacket a little higher. “I went to say hi after I finished patrol.”

“And you stayed the night. Lovely.” 

It was, actually, not that Damian needed to know that. Dick wasn’t entirely sure why he was under interrogation; in all of Hal’s worrying about Jim and Bruce, he’d forgotten all about how antagonistic Dick’s brothers could be. 

Dick shoved his hands into his pockets. “Yeah, well, I needed to rest before tonight. Who am I going out with, by the way?”

Cold dread dripped down Dick’s spine when Damian smiled. “Me.” 

“You know,” Dick said, wincing, “I don’t think Nightwing and Robin has the same ring as Batman and-”

“I won’t torture you with questions about your evening,” Damian interrupted. His hand dropped to Titus’ head, scratching behind his ears. “I have no desire to know any details. Please, spare me. We will, however, be discussing your habit of vanishing after patrols without telling anyone.”

Dick really, really wanted to just walk away. If it was anyone else, he would have, but he couldn’t do that to Damian. Instead, he slouched, using his shoulders as a sort of shield as he muttered, “I texted Bruce.”

“Who, if you recall, had a rare day off. Father did not wake and inform us until midmorning, several hours after you were due home.”

It was a little odd and uncomfortable to be scolded by someone just shy of half his age. Given Damian’s way of speaking, it felt a lot like Alfred’s gentle reprimanding when he’d been much younger and running Bruce off his feet. 

Damian did have a point, though.

“I’m sorry,” Dick said.

For the first time, Damian looked away. He kept stroking Titus, running his knuckles down the back of his neck now. “It was… worrying.”

Dick took the few steps needed to cross the lobby and drape his arm around Damian. His brother wasn’t usually fond of physical displays of affection, but this time he leaned in against Dick’s side, turning his face so he could rest his cheek against Dick’s torso. His fingers slowed in Titus’s scruff, and when he whined and shuffled closer to seek out more petting, Damian simply wound his arms around his neck to hold him instead. 

“Sorry, Dami,” Dick murmured, giving him a gentle squeeze. “I’ll let you know next time.”

“Good.” Damian straightened up once more, and Dick took that as his cue to let go of him. “Now, dinner will be ready soon. If you wish to change, you should go now.” He peered up at Dick, and he was smiling again now, more amused than ominous. “We should get started as early as we can.”

“Alright.” Dick puffed out a quiet laugh, and he ruffled Damian’s hair before he moved away, despite his protests. “I’ll see you in five.”

This time, when the sun began to rose over the Gotham skyline, Dick went home with Damian first. 

They arrived back at the manor at close to six in the morning. As much as he tried to hide it, Damian was obviously tired by the time they arrived in the Batcave, his exhaustion hidden in imperceptible tells; his feet dragged as he made a beeline for the changing room where he’d left his clothes earlier in the evening, and he’d started to speak less and less the closer they got to home. When they both emerged, dressed in more casual, comfortable clothing, Damian mumbled a goodnight and tucked himself into the lift to head back up into the manor proper.

Dick, however, had other plans.

True to his word, he let someone else - Alfred this time - know that he wasn’t coming upstairs. Then it was a matter of just taking the quick trip over to Hal’s, where he let himself in through the balcony door like last time. He helped himself to a quick shower, and then tiptoed into Hal’s room.

Hal was lost in a tangle of sheets, his face buried in a pillow as he snored quietly. Dick’s usual side of the bed was empty.

He slipped in under the covers, exhaustion dragging him down almost instantly. He curled onto his side facing Hal, seeking out the familiar warmth he radiated, only to find a sleepy arm thrown out his way. Hal made a muffled, wordless noise as he tugged Dick closer, and Dick suppressed a laugh as he burrowed into his side. Within seconds, Hal was asleep again, like he’d never stirred in the first place, and Dick wasn’t far behind him.

* * *

_“So I have a great idea for a date.”_

“I’m listening.”

Dick sat on the mats in the gym, stretching his legs out in front of himself. He bent forward to touch his toes with ease, and he held the position without breaking a sweat. It felt good, relaxing, before he’d even started his workout.

His phone was on the mat next to him, open on a call from Hal. The thought of photos crossed Dick’s mind again as he glanced down at the blank screen with its plain _HJ_ across the screen. He really needed to snap some good ones of Hal the next time he saw him, if only to put on his contacts so it didn’t look so impersonal when they called. It was oddly distant for how close they were.

He heard the sound of Hal sitting down on his couch, and then some rustling as he adjusted to get comfortable. Dick switched to his other leg.

 _“I’ve cooked for you,”_ Hal said. _“I think it’d be fun to cook together.”_

“Huh.” Dick tilted his head. “Really, the next step would be me cooking for you, but I don’t think I’ll be able to get control of the kitchen for long enough.”

_“Exactly. That’s why you come over, we cook together. Problem solved.”_

Dick rolled up onto his knees so he could tuck an arm behind his head instead. He cupped the elbow, pulling just enough to feel the stretch in his upper arm. “What’re we gonna make? Can I leave handprints on you somehow?”

Hal laughed. Dick smiled and closed his eyes, picturing the way amusement made Hal’s eyes crinkle at the corners. _“I don’t know what we’re making yet, but I’ll make sure I have flour just so you can do that. I’m open to ideas, though. Got any cravings?”_

As he changed arms, Dick cast about for any suggestions. It would have to be something easy enough that they could mess around, but he also wanted something tasty and interesting. 

“We could make meatballs,” Dick suggested, tugging on his elbow just a little more. “That could be fun.”

 _“Ambitious,”_ Hal said, _“but I’m game. Meatballs it is. You wanna come over for dinner tonight?”_

“Sure, I can come over in a couple hours.” Dick dropped his arms back to his side, just so he could peer down at the time on his phone. “Let me just finish working out and then I’ll head over.”

There was silence on the other end for a long moment. Dick almost wondered if Hal had disconnected somehow, and then he spoke up again. _“You’ve been working out this whole time?”_

“Stretching,” Dick corrected. “I’m _about_ to work out.”

_“Hot.”_

Dick laughed before he could stop it. “You think anything I do is hot.”

_“That’s because it’s true, Dick. Have you seen yourself? Actually, I can’t even imagine you working out, that’s too much.”_

He could hear the warmth in Hal’s voice, a mixture of humour and genuine affection, and Dick puffed out another quiet chuckle. “I could say the same for you, you know,” he replied, “but I don’t wanna give you an even bigger head than you already have.”

_“You wound me, Grayson.”_

“Oh, we’re back to last names?”

 _“Yep.”_ Hal popped the ‘p’ with far too much pleasure. _“You skipped right past Nightwing and went straight to Grayson.”_

Dick rolled his eyes fondly. “I’ll make it up to you by bringing ingredients.”

_“Mm, alright. Fair trade. See you in a few hours?”_

“Yeah, see you later.” Dick scooped up his phone, smiling down at it. His cheeks ached from how much he’d been grinning; it was often the case when he was around Hal. 

As they said their goodbyes, the door opened. Bruce stepped inside, and, realising that Dick was on the phone, he quickly averted his gaze and instead went to get himself set up in the corner. Dick ignored the way his cheeks warmed up, and he hoped that Bruce did, too. He ended the call - always sooner than he’d like - and put his phone next to his water bottle as he got to his feet.

Bruce came over, taking a place on the mat to do his own stretches. “You didn’t have to stop on my account,” he said carefully. 

Quite honestly, Dick couldn’t think of many things that were worse than calling his… whatever Hal was while Bruce was in the room. Dinner together was an entirely different affair, but a phonecall… 

Nope. Not happening.

“We were done anyway.” Dick shrugged. He made his way to his rings, plotting out a routine in his head to swing through. It might leave him with shaky, weak arms for a minute after, but that was easily solved with a hot shower. “We were just making plans for later.”

“Ah.” Bruce nodded, carefully balancing on one leg as he held the ankle of the other. 

They both fell silent, Bruce focusing on his stretching while Dick lifted himself into the air with ease. He lost himself in the comfortable give and take of his movements, relishing the strain in his arms and the effort of pointing his toes just right. After so many years of using it in the field, it was relaxing to just take things at his own speed and _enjoy_ gymnastics instead of looking at his skills like they were a weapon. 

Metal clinked against metal as Bruce moved onto equipment. Dick glanced over, and he spotted him at the weights, adding a couple more. 

“You should invite him over again,” Bruce said conversationally as he sat on the end of the bench.

Dick dropped himself into a carefully controlled swing, his toes brushing the mat before they came level with his hips. “For another dinner?”

“If you want. Or he could come over for a movie night.” 

“Do we even have space left on the couches?” Dick asked, his lips tugging up at one corner into a half smile.

Bruce chuckled. Dick finally dropped himself back to the floor, landing in an easy crouch. His muscles ached, but it was worth it; it was a satisfying kind of strain, one that Dick savoured while it lasted. It was much more comfortable than the bruises after a fight, at any rate. He stopped by his water bottle, taking a few quick, greedy gulps as Bruce started on the weights in the background.

“I’m sure we can find room,” Bruce said, just a touch strained now as he lifted. 

Dick almost wanted to shoot down the idea, but… Bruce was right. Dinner had been fun once they’d all settled in, so why not invite Hal over again? A movie night would be a longer ordeal, but it was a golden opportunity to just press himself up against Hal’s side as they all hung out together.

Of course, Hal would be on the lookout for any moves from Dick’s family, but that was a whole other can of worms.

Dick came to stand by the weights bench, spotting for Bruce. He was more than capable of lifting what he had on his bar, but it never hurt. “I’ll ask him later,” Dick said, leaning back against the wall lazily. “He’s terrified of all of you, but he’ll probably say yes.”

Bruce huffed out a quiet laugh, pausing with the weights in the air. “As he should be.”

Dick bit back a snicker. “Not quite the answer I was looking for, Bruce.” 

“Well, I _am_ Batman. I have a reputation to uphold.”

* * *

“Shit,” Dick hissed, scrambling to grab his phone from Hal’s coffee table. He planted a hand on Hal’s shoulder to hold himself upright, ignoring Hal’s quiet grumble as he scooped it up. He thumbed the screen, quickly answering Batman’s call.

Batman’s, not Bruce’s.

“Yeah, I’m here.” 

Hal tapped his hip for attention, and Dick very suddenly remembered that he was sitting on Hal’s lap while on the phone with his father. Cheeks burning, Dick raised his eyebrows in a silent question, and Hal mouthed _who is it?_

Dick held up his free hand in a pantomime of Batman ears. Hal paled.

 _“Red Robin and I need backup,”_ Batman growled. _“Do you have your suit with you?”_

“Yeah.” Dick climbed off of Hal’s lap, shooting him an apologetic look. “It’s in my backpack. Where are you?”

 _“Amusement park.”_ There was a grunt, and a shout in the distance. _“Be quick.”_

The line went dead.

Dick did the math. Gotham’s amusement park wasn’t too far from Hal’s apartment; they had, in fact, entertained the idea of visiting one day, though they hadn’t gotten around to it just yet. If Bruce called him first instead of Jason, who wasn’t occupied and would be ready to go out, it was because Bruce knew where Dick was, and he desperately needed the backup as soon as possible.

Well, shit.

“What’s wrong?” Hal asked, sitting up. 

“I have to go.” He made a beeline for his backpack. It was still slumped by the door, abandoned there after he and Hal had kissed at the entrance. That seemed so long ago now. “Bruce and Tim need help, I’m sorry. I’ll be back after, we can pick up where we left off.”

He tugged his shirt over his head, and when it was on the floor, he noticed a green glow. Dick shot a look back at the couch, and there Hal was, already suited up before Dick had even stripped. “Hal,” he said, cautious.

He shrugged. “I’ll help.”

Dick stood, shoving his jeans down his legs. It wasn’t the way he was hoping to get them off tonight, if he was honest. “And scare half of Gotham?”

“If it keeps criminals from showing up, sure,” Hal chuckled. He folded his arms, head cocked as he watched Dick climb into his suit. “Look, I can fly us both there. It’ll be much quicker, and they won’t be prepared for me. It’ll all be over much quicker.”

He couldn’t really argue with that. “Alright, sure.” Dick pressed his mask into place on his face, blinking a couple of times to adjust it, and then grabbed his escrima sticks. “Let’s go.”

They took the balcony exit. Hal didn’t bother to lock up properly, instead just pulling the door closed before he circled his arm around Dick’s waist. He smirked. “Hold on tight, Nightwing.”

Dick looped an elbow around the back of Hal’s neck. “I’m good.”

Effortlessly, Hal took off from the ground, soaring into the night sky. The ground vanished beneath Dick’s feet, leaving them dangling as he gripped Hal a little tighter and peered out into the distance. “We’re right there,” he said, digging his fingers into Hal’s shoulder. “I can see it, there!”

It would have been difficult to miss. Clearly, Riddler was having the time of his life; bright green question marks had been splashed all over the amusement park rides, extending all the way down to the gift shop near the exit. Dick could see movement even from this far above, swarming across the open spots and through the little alleyways. The bright red of Tim’s costume stuck out like a sore thumb as he fought off the goons guarding the place, and Batman was nowhere to be seen.

“Drop me there,” Dick said, pointing with the end of his stick. 

“Aye, aye, captain.” 

Hal swooped lower, and when they were close enough to the ground, Dick braced himself against Hal to take a flying leap off of him. 

Flight before had felt odd, unusual, out of his control. Now, however, it felt effortless as he made a neat flip midair, the wind whistling past his ears. He landed in a perfect crouch next to Tim, and watched with some delight as his eyebrows raised above his mask.

“Nightwing?” he asked.

Dick grinned. “Figured I’d _drop in.”_

Tim laughed, batting away an oncoming criminal with his staff. “Nice. Where did you-”

He was interrupted as a giant, bright green bowling ball swept through the approaching crowd, and Hal whooped overhead. _“Strike!”_

_“That’s_ where you came from,” Tim finished. 

“Yeah.” Dick sprung, twisting to shock another Riddler guard as he got too close. The man grunted, squirming away with another firm thwack to the back as he moved away to recover. “Where’s Batman?”

Tim didn’t answer for a moment, too focused on the fight. It was only when he neatly knocked a goon to the ground that he spoke again, acting as if nothing had interrupted their conversation at all. “He went after Riddler.”

So that was why he’d asked for backup. Made sense.

Tim crouched with his next move, sweeping his staff under the legs of several criminals, and Dick took the chance to roll across his back and kick out at two approaching Tim’s exposed side. He gave them a quick zap to finish them off, leaving them groaning on the ground, as harmless as kittens.

The speakers screeched; Dick winced, and Tim’s hands shot up to cover his ears. _“Oh, Batman,”_ Riddler chuckled, _“that’s not fair. You can’t bring in extra players! I might have allowed one, but two…? Well, I guess I’ll just have to even the odds a little.”_

The ground seemed to thunder underneath their feet. Dick looked up, already knowing who to expect as he heard a low, grumbling laugh. 

_“Say goodbye to your little birds, Batman. Shame about that new green one; a man after my own heart, truly.”_ Riddler laughed, and the speakers went silent again.

Hal dipped down closer to them. “What’s happening?”

Tim frowned, sliding his hands to a more comfortable position on his staff. “Bane. Nightwing and I won’t be able to take him out, we don’t have the tech or the firepower. That’s usually Batman’s job.”

“The wrestler guy?”

“Yeah.” Dick spun, lashing his stick out at a goon had been trying his luck while their backs were turned. He cried out as shocks coursed through his upper arm, and he quickly limped away again. “Big guy, strong. Wouldn’t notice a Batarang if it stabbed him in the shoulder.”

There was an odd look on Hal’s face. “Human, though?”

“If you don’t count his venom,” Tim said. “Why?”

“You two worry about these guys.” Hal swooped up into the air again, turning in a twirl to face the rumbling. “I’ll be able to hold Bane no problem. I’ll just have to concentrate, is all.”

True to his word, as soon as Bane rushed at them from around the corner of a building, thick green ropes wound their way around his body. They slowed Bane to a standstill, even as he strained with all the strength wrapped up in his broad shoulders, growling with the effort. Dick glanced up at Hal, and saw him biting the tip of his tongue as green light beamed out of his ring, keeping Bane firmly in place. 

From then, it was a blur of fighting. He and Tim worked in tandem effortlessly, using each other when necessary to get the upper hand. Dick ducked so Tim could use him as a springboard, and Dick neatly spun and jumped over him whichever way his momentum carried him; Tim sidestepped or worked with him as necessary without so much as a word of communication, reading Dick’s moves before Dick consciously made them himself. 

When the last guard dropped, Dick straightened up and swiped sweat off of his forehead with the back of his gloved hand. Hal waved at him lazily from midair, lounging now that Bane had given in to await his sentence, and Dick grinned.

Batman emerged not long after, dragging a pouting Riddler after him. Sirens sounded in the distance; it wouldn’t be long until the GCPD arrived, and then it was pretty much just a family reunion.

“I didn’t expect you, Lantern,” Bruce said, peering up at Hal. 

“Well, you know, in the neighbourhood and all.” Finally, Hal came back down to Earth, smoothly moving between flight and walking. “Figured I’d help since I had to abandon my original plans.” Dick felt Hal look his way, even though he couldn’t see his eyes through the white slits of his mask. Next to him, Tim wrinkled his nose.

Bruce seemed more amused than anything else, though. “Then thank you for the help. I can take Bane from here.” He produced a pair of handcuffs - larger than normal - from his belt. Dick wasn’t surprised to see that he was _that_ prepared; Bruce usually was.

Hal’s constructs faded once the cuffs were securely around Bane’s wrists. “You know,” Bruce said, adjusting them, “you should come over again.”

Dick bit back a smile as Hal jerked. “What?”

“We’re having a movie night in a couple days,” Bruce continued, as if he hadn’t heard Hal. “You should join us.” He turned, staring meaningfully at him and Dick. “It’d be good to have you visit.”

“Yeah, sure, I’ll come, why not.” Hal laughed breezily, but Dick was pretty sure he was panicking. “A movie night with the Batfamily. That totally sounds like I’ll make it out alive.”

Bruce just laughed, and Dick took pity on Hal and patted his shoulder fondly. 

* * *

It took some rearranging, but there was just about enough space on the couch for Hal to join them. Damian relocated, taking the spot on Bruce’s other side, so Dick could sandwich himself between Hal and Tim. Jason and Alfred, of course, got priority over their preferred armchairs.

So far, Dick and Hal just pressed their arms together. He ached for more - when they’d settled in to watch movies at Hal’s place, they hadn’t been shy about cuddling - but this was different. It didn’t matter that Jim stretched his arm behind Bruce’s shoulders when he got comfortable; they were the parents of their odd little family, and they could get away with little physical touches even when the kids complained over the smallest thing.

Hal and Dick weren’t even officially dating. Dick swallowed his mouthful of popcorn uncomfortably.

It was Jason’s turn to choose, and he settled on a generic action film as Bruce dimmed the lights. It was the perfect kind to lose themselves in, loud and full of explosions that didn’t quite have a place in the plot. Hal helped himself to popcorn from Dick’s bowl, and, bit by bit, Dick felt him start to relax. 

In the low light of the living room, Dick felt bold.

He sought out Hal’s hand, and he breathed a little easier when Hal’s fingers slotted between his.

He felt eyes on him from across the room. It was Jason, smirking when he met Dick’s gaze, but then he looked away again, granting them just a little bit of privacy. Nobody else batted an eyelid. Once Jason stepped out of their bubble, it was just the two of them.

Hal squeezed his hand, and Dick wished that he was brave enough to ask for more.

* * *

Dick woke to a sharp ringing and Hal’s quiet cursing. He felt Hal roll away from him, swearing quietly but rapidfire fast, and then a low green light burned through Dick’s eyelids as it filled his bedroom.

“What is it, John?”

_“We need you to come back. Sorry, I know it’s late there, but it’s looking like an emergency.”_

Dick froze. 

Hal sighed. “It’s fine. On my way.”

The glow abruptly cut out. Instead of moving for the edge of the bed, Hal shifted back to face Dick again, curling his arm around him to hold him tight. Briefly, Dick didn’t know how or if to respond, but Hal puffed out a quiet, humourless laugh. “I know you’re awake, Dick.”

He sighed. “You got me.”

This time, Hal chuckled a little more sincerely. It quickly faded, though. “Sorry.”

Dick moved onto his back, frowning at him through the darkness. “Hal, don’t apologise. It’s not a problem, I get it.” 

Hal still looked miserable. Maybe it was the fact that they’d been woken up in the middle of the night, or maybe it was the abrupt end to what had turned out to be a fun month together. It had been a little foolish of Dick to hope that things might end up differently this time.

“I’m still sorry,” Hal murmured, defeated.

“Hey, come here.” Dick tugged him down by the collar of his shirt. He sealed his lips against Hal’s in a firm kiss, one that he desperately didn’t want to stop. It took all the willpower in the world to make Dick let go of him, when all he wanted was to yank him back down into bed and persuade him to stay. “Oa needs you. I’m not going anywhere.”

He could practically feel the doubt radiating off of Hal in waves. He didn’t comment on it.

“I’ll make it up to you when I get back,” Hal promised. He slipped out of bed, and as he did, his Green Lantern suit wrapped around him lovingly. 

For once, Dick didn’t wonder whether Hal would prefer a drink instead when he came home. Hal stole one last kiss - Dick could practically feel the glow of the suit as it pressed against his skin, thrumming with alien energy - and then Hal pulled himself away. Hal was many things, a joker included, but he didn’t mess around much when it came to serious emergencies; it was one of the multitude of things that Dick admired about him, considering he also tried to find the humour in most things.

He watched from his bed as Hal opened the window. “Have a safe trip.”

“Will do. And, hey.” Hal paused, his feet dangling out of the window as he smirked at Dick. He lifted a hand to his ear, wiggling it like a phone. “Call me.”

Dick stifled his laugh as Hal dropped out of sight then, and soon enough he was just a green streak in the sky.

* * *

Come morning, the joke didn’t seem so funny. 

Or, just maybe, that was because Dick woke up alone.

He closed his eyes again, as if doing so would simply make Hal materialise next to him. In that little imaginary world, they went down to breakfast together after finally, _finally_ making things official, and they squeezed into a couple of chairs at the breakfast bar between Dick’s brothers to endure their teasing.

His eyes opened. Still no Hal.

Reluctantly, Dick hauled himself out of bed. He picked up his scattered clothes from the night before, picking through the pile to figure out what was his and what belonged to Hal. His own ended up in the laundry basket, and after a pause, Dick decided to throw Hal’s stuff in, too. The least he could do was wash it so it would be clean when he came back for it.

As Dick turned towards his wardrobe to get dressed, he paused.

There, on the back of his desk chair, was Hal’s jacket.

He knew the significance of it, of course. Hal had mentioned what it meant to him some months ago now when Dick had commented on how frequently he wore it. To him, it was so intrinsically linked to Hal that it seemed odd to see it sitting there, lifeless without him to fill it.

Dick left it alone. He dressed for the day. Briefly, he considered using the communicator to send Hal a message, but then he set it down on his bedside table again; he didn’t want to burden Hal when he had flown out for something serious. That didn’t feel fair.

Bruce and Jim were the only two in the kitchen when Dick scouted it out. They were sat together at the island, Jim idly skimming a newspaper while Bruce scrolled on his phone. Dick pretended not to notice their feet bumping together.

“Morning, son,” Jim said, glancing up at him with a warm smile. Dick felt the pause as Jim scanned the empty space behind him, and he used it as an opportunity to grab himself a bowl of cereal. “Where’s Hal?”

“He had to go back to Oa,” Dick said simply. The cereal rattled too loudly against his bowl as it poured. He buried a wince. “He got called away during the night.”

It was silent for a beat. Dick added milk to his breakfast.

“Christ, I’m sorry about that.” 

Dick felt the corner of his lips tug down, quirking with the sadness he shoved away. “Yeah, me too.”

“Do you know when he’s coming back?” Bruce asked carefully.

Rather than join them at the island, Dick turned to lean against the counter as he ate. He shrugged. “It was an emergency, so I don’t know. I figured he’d stay up there since it’s close enough to when he’d leave normally.”

He looked firmly down at his cereal, but he saw Jim and Bruce exchange a look out of the corners of his eyes. Dick wasn’t sure he could take seeing it head on; he wasn’t sure what had him feeling so off-balance this time, and he was trying his best not to sink into the disappointment of suddenly not having Hal around, but it was just so damn hard when he’d been debating more with him. 

Stability. An actual relationship. It would’ve been nice.

“He’ll be fine, Dick,” Bruce said quietly. 

Dick sighed. “I know.” 

It wasn’t the point, but he couldn’t blame Bruce for trying.

* * *

“Richard, I require your help with Titus again.”

Dick lowered his phone. Damian stood there, arms folded, Titus standing by his side expectantly. In one of Damian’s hands, there was a ball. 

“What do you need help with?” There was no arguing with Damian, and Dick didn’t really want to. He pressed his phone back into his pocket; he hadn’t been doing anything important anyway, so spending time with Damian would be a welcome distraction. 

“Exercise. I twisted my ankle last night.”

Damian was a bad liar. He was fantastic when it came to sneaking around, but he was not the best at keeping a poker face. This was a very, very obvious ploy to get Dick moving again, and clearly Damian thought he was doing well at pulling it off secretly. 

It was surprisingly sweet of him.

“Alright.” Dick pushed himself to his feet with a sigh. “Let’s go. C’mon, Titus.”

The dog bounded out into the garden ahead of them, wriggling as he danced across the grass. Despite himself, Dick grinned, and he crouched to ruffle Titus’ ears and get him wound up. Damian laughed quietly behind them, and it was such a rare and wonderful sound that Dick beamed back at him. To his delight, he got a small smile in return.

“Hey, Dami.” Dick nodded at Titus. “You wanna throw the ball for him?”

It flew through the air, as precise as Damian always was as it bounced down the pathway. Titus took off at a sprint, sending flecks of grass up in his wake as he raced after it. Dick held up a hand to protect his face from the shreds, laughing with Damian, and his spirits lifted.

* * *

He wasn’t scheduled to go out with Bruce for a little while. Patrols rotated around, and while Dick went out with each of his brothers on top of his solo outings, he didn’t find himself side by side with Batman until a couple of weeks after Hal left. 

It wasn’t that he was trying to avoid Bruce. They just simply hadn’t lined up beyond mealtimes and movie nights. Bruce had been busy with work, and then more often than not he was out at night meeting with the GCPD over one thing or another, which didn’t always require a sidekick. Spending time with his brothers helped, though, so Dick hadn’t exactly complained when they always got him laughing and wrapped him up in the whole superhero gig again.

Now, though, he and Bruce crouched on a rooftop, staring down at the streets below. Bruce had opened a section of his gauntlet to reveal a screen so police chatter could play in the background, waiting to alert them should anything come up. Idly, Dick sat and dangled his legs off of the side of the building, enjoying the fact that the heights didn’t even send thrills through him now when he was stationary.

“Hal checked in at the Watchtower.”

Dick swallowed. “Yeah?”

“Mm.” Bruce settled in a little more comfortably, perching next to Dick. “He said the situation on Oa was resolved without anything major.”

“That’s good.”

He was safe, then. A weight lifted from Dick’s chest. 

“And you were right,” Bruce continued, “he’s staying on Oa for the time being, just to finish his time on active duty while he’s there.”

Dick hummed. “So another two months.”

“Looks like it.”

Just because he’d expected it didn’t mean that Dick had to like it. He sighed, exhaling a long breath through his nostrils, and it came out sounding a little heavier than he’d intended. He could feel Bruce looking at him, but he stayed silent, waiting.

“Dick.”

“Careful using names in the field, Batman,” he quipped, summoning a hint of a playful smile. “You’re always the one hammering it in.”

Bruce chuckled kindly. Dick appreciated it, though he knew he was being needlessly prickly. When he spoke, though, Bruce was simply gentle; it felt like he was opening the door and just leaving that way for Dick if he chose to use it. “Did something happen last time?” he asked carefully. “Between you and Hal.”

Dick blinked. “What?”

“You’ve seemed down,” Bruce continued, cautious, “and I want you to know that if you want to talk about anything-”

“Bru- _Batman.”_ Dick caught himself, briefly frustrated that he was so distracted that he’d almost slipped right after teasing Bruce for the same thing. “No, nothing happened between us. He just had to go, and it sucks.” He looked out across the city again, shrugging one shoulder. “And I wish things weren’t so complicated, but they are. That’s just how it is.”

Bruce gave him an odd look, but it was indecipherable through the cowl. 

The thing was, this time _was_ different. Dick knew he could contact Hal now; he didn’t have the excuse of cutting himself off cold turkey. The communicator sat in his bedroom, untouched except for a few careful brushes of his fingers as he considered it - not quite nightly, but it might as well have been with how often his eyes strayed to it when he couldn’t sleep.

He hadn’t even switched it on, though. He wasn’t entirely sure what was holding him back.

“Does it have to be complicated?” Bruce asked.

Dick didn’t know how to reply. He was saved by the police scanner lighting up with a call, and Dick could safely say it was the one time in his life he’d been glad that a crime was occurring. 

* * *

It didn’t feel like he and Bruce had talked about much, but the conversation lingered on Dick’s mind for days. He couldn’t shake it no matter how hard he tried. Embarrassingly, he also found himself holding the communicator and looking at Hal’s jacket more often than he wanted to admit.

Dick thumbed the screen with a grimace. If he was honest, he wasn’t even sure how to turn the thing on.

There was a polite knock at his open door. Tim stood there, looking a little sheepish, with a pair of what looked like goggles in his hand. “Hey, Dick?”

He summoned a smile. “Hey, Tim. What’s up?”

Tim was already distracted. “What’s that?”

Well, it was too late to hide the communicator now. Dick hadn’t exactly been trying to in the first place, but he also hadn’t wanted to air out all of his emotional turmoil where his brothers could see it. They all had enough going on without his high school level drama.

“It’s sort of like a watch,” Dick said anyway. He patted the spot on the bed next to him, and Tim trotted over to take a seat. “It’s supposed to let me talk to whoever has the matching one.”

Tim was a smart kid. He knew what the Green Lantern symbol looked like. He was, however, also much more tactful than Jason or Damian, and he didn’t comment on it. He was only interested in one thing. “How does it work?”

Dick chuckled. “To tell you the truth, Tim, I don’t know. Haven’t figured it out yet.”

“You’re telling me you’ve got a way to talk to Hal and you haven’t?”

Okay, so maybe Tim wasn’t _that_ much more tactful.

He winced. “You know he’s out being a superhero, right? Saving the galaxy and everything?”

Tim rolled his eyes. “Yeah, and I’ve also seen the way you two look at each other. You should call him, or whatever that thing does.” Then, still looking at it, he added, _“And_ you should get him to tell me how it works. It sounds cool.”

Somehow, he made it sound so oddly normal, like Dick and Hal were a couple. Dick supposed it _had_ been close to eight months since their first date now - which, Jesus, he hadn’t even realised how much time had passed - but there was that little matter of Hal being halfway across the galaxy right now, much too far away for Dick to reach him. 

Light from the hallway reflected off of the communicator’s screen.

Later, Dick told himself. 

_Promised_ himself.

“I’ll tell you as soon as I try it out.” He was about to put it on the bedside table again, but then he paused. Instead, he carefully strapped it onto his wrist, just so he could hold himself to his promise. “So, what did you want?”

“Hm? Oh!” Tim lifted up the goggles, wiggling them. “Alfred made these. He’s trying out some new sensor stuff, should help us in the field. Do you wanna play hide and seek to try them out?”

“Sure.” Dick grinned. “Are we playing in the manor or in the gardens?”

Tim jumped to his feet, practically vibrating, and Dick wondered just how much coffee he’d had so far today. “Let’s go with the gardens.”

As they left, Dick closed his bedroom door firmly. “You’d better hope Titus isn’t around to give you away.”

“He’s an extra obstacle,” Tim said, shrugging it off. He turned back to Dick with a bright smile. “And he likes you more than me, so watch out.”

“Oh, I see how it is,” Dick laughed. “You’re cheating already and we’re not even downstairs yet.”

“It doesn’t count if we’re not outside yet.”

Dick thought that those were some pretty shitty rules, but he just snickered instead as Tim raced down the stairs ahead of him. Tim was right, after all: it was just more of a challenge, one that he was determined to win.

* * *

In the end, though, no matter how much time he spent laughing with his family or working, Dick always ended up back here. 

The stars just brought a comfort that was indescribable. He’d always admired what he could see of space, even more so once he found himself with the bizarre privilege of visiting the Watchtower now and again. It was, quite simply, beautiful and terrifying in equal measure, and it had always captivated his imagination. 

Now, though, it carried a different meaning. 

For almost two months, Dick had left Hal’s jacket alone. He’d washed and folded the rest of his clothes, and they’d ended up in a neat pile on the seat of his desk chair. In a moment of weakness, though, Dick shrugged Hal’s jacket onto his shoulders and headed down to the seating area in the garden, in the vain hope that maybe it would feel like he was there.

The jacket still smelled like him. Dick’s nose brushed against the collar when he turned it up against the evening’s chill, and warmth flooded his veins.

He’d finally figured out the communicator. He lifted his wrist as he sat, and the screen lit up with a simple green interface. When he tapped the screen, it brought up a few options, and he settled on the one titled _message._

Dick didn’t really expect a response. It was more just to reach out, to test the communicator.

_Hope you’re doing okay._

It didn’t convey even a fraction of what Dick was feeling, but it would do. He sent it, then rolled the sleeve back down over his wrist again. He wasn’t sure how it would alert him when Hal sent a reply; he’d wait to find out. For now, Dick just folded his arms across his knees, settled his chin onto his forearms, and looked up at the stars. 

He didn’t stir when he heard the door open behind him, and neither did he move when he heard the click of a lighter. That left two options, but he had a pretty good hunch.

“Now, I know you don’t own a jacket like that, Dick.”

Jason. His hunch was right.

Dick cracked a smile. “I don’t,” he agreed. “It’s Hal’s.”

“Thought so.” Jason made his way over, dropping down into an empty chair. He took a quick suck on his cigarette, and he politely blew the smoke away from Dick. “What’re you doing out here?”

“Just… sitting,” Dick said lamely. He shrugged a shoulder. “Thinking.”

“Unless you’re thinking about talking to fucking Green Lantern,” Jason said, ashing his cigarette over the dish on the table, “I don’t wanna hear it. You’ve been moping around for months. We all know you two aren’t _together_ together for whatever reason.”

It was so abrupt and so very _Jason_ that Dick laughed before he could stop it. “You do know he spends most of his time out in space, right? That’s a pretty big reason why.”

“Yeah, but you two are both _so_ fucking obvious.” Jason pointed his cigarette at him lazily like one might with a pen at a whiteboard. “Look at you. You’re wearing his jacket, and you want to tell me that you’re not pining?”

Jason did have a point. Dick plucked at the sleeve of the jacket, quietly conscious of how it looked. “You got me there,” he murmured, looking down at his shoes. 

“Damn right I do.” Jason paused to consider his cigarette, and then he simply put it out in the ashtray. The embers lingered even in the cold, glowing hot for a few seconds before fading. Dick wondered if it had been an excuse to come outside rather than a craving. “Look, if you want my advice, I think you should just talk to him already. You’ve probably heard it a hundred times already from everyone else, but I’m _telling_ you to do it.”

Dick snorted. “Smooth, Jason.”

“Never claimed to be. I’m just not here to bullshit you. _Fuck,_ it’s cold.” Jason shoved his hands into his pockets, frowning into the darkness beyond the seating area. “Anyway, you deserve better than this every two months. Just fucking make it official already.”

It was easier said than done, Dick thought privately; every time he considered it when Hal was actually around, he was already caught up in the whirlwind of having him here on Earth that it was easy to just… accidentally let it slip his mind. Usually, he could reach out and touch him or call him, and it made it simpler to forget the times when he couldn’t do that.

The communicator buzzed on his wrist. Dick’s heart jumped.

“I’m going back inside,” Jason said, standing up and stomping his boots, “it’s way too fucking cold for me. There’s some hot cocoa in the kitchen for you when you’re ready to come back in, if you want it.”

Dick smiled up at him. “Thanks, Jason.” He meant it too. It didn’t matter to him that Jason was brash and, sometimes, rude; he was his brother, and this was his way of showing that he cared. 

Jason’s hand landed on his shoulder for a quick slap. “Of course. Don’t mention it.” 

As he left, Dick wondered if he meant it literally or just in response to his thanks. Knowing Jason, it was probably both. 

Smiling, Dick tugged back his sleeve again to find that the communicator’s screen was already lit up and full of text. He had no idea what time it was on Oa, but Dick guessed it must have been close enough to what passed for daytime up there. 

That, or Hal had been waiting for his text this whole time. That might explain the look Bruce had given him, Dick realised guiltily. 

_I’m good. Just doing the usual saving the universe and looking good while I do it._

Dick laughed quietly to himself. He shook his other hand free of its sleeve, ignoring the bite of the cold as he made a move to tap on the text box. When he spotted a little writing symbol, though, he paused, and then the communicator vibrated again.

_I missed you._


	4. Chapter 4

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> You can find me on tumblr @capedcommissioner!
> 
> Note: Batcest/incest shippers do not interact. Comments are moderated only to keep Batcest/incest shippers off of my work. If you don't have Batcest/incest in your works/bookmarks, your comment will be approved regardless of what it says!

Talking to Dick made the time between Oa and Earth go _so_ much faster. It gave Hal something to look forward to, something to look out for; whenever the communicator on his wrist buzzed, he knew that there was someone outside of the Lanterns really looking out for him. Someone else cared for him, _really_ cared. It wasn’t like he had family to lean on, and before Dick, Barry had been his closest friend, and he was back on Earth anyway.

This time, though, Hal was determined to try and make a difference. Even if the right opportunity didn’t present itself, he was going to try and hint to Dick that he wanted something more.

There hadn’t been anyone else the entire time. In total now, it had been nine months since that first date. Six of those had been spent on Oa, so Hal narrowed it down to three in total that they’d spent together in near married bliss whenever he was on Earth. 

Three definitely wasn’t enough, not for the magnitude of emotion he’d been bottling up.

He wanted to do something nice for Dick. He wanted to offer dinner - not ask, not this time - and make it special.

Flowers. They were a good start.

Gotham was shockingly lacking in florists. It wasn’t that surprising, Hal supposed, considering how dim and gloomy the city was, but anyone who opened one would make a killing. He settled for the one near city centre, picking his way through the pretty little shop to find the right flower. If nothing else stood out, he had already planned on roses. There was no mistaking the meaning of those.

He was busy considering a bouquet of red and pink ones when he spotted a familiar silhouette across the shop.

Bruce stared him down, an eyebrow raised.

Hal held a finger to his lips, silently shushing him. He hoped that his obvious pleading was enough grovelling for not telling Dick that he was home yet.

Thankfully, Bruce smiled. He wasn’t sure he’d ever been the one to make that happen so genuinely, but right now it was such a relief that Hal didn’t even notice. Bruce mimed zipping his lips shut, and then he deliberately turned away to give Hal some privacy to finish his shopping. Bruce simply took his chosen flowers to the counter, paid, and left. He was pretty sure that that meant he owed Bruce one.

Hal wasn’t far behind him. He brought the roses to the counter, and said yes to the fancier wrapping paper.

* * *

It wasn’t a bad set-up, Hal thought. His apartment was never untidy really, but he’d made an effort to sweep around the main area to pick up anything out of place, and the table was set up in preparation for their dinner, complete with a candle. He hadn’t actually started cooking yet, but only because he also hadn’t _texted_ Dick yet.

He hoped Dick appreciated the effort. Hell, Hal had even put on a buttoned shirt for this.

He ignored the nervous jitter of his heart as he pulled out his phone.

_Hey._

_Hey, Hal. Are you almost back?_

Hal grinned to himself. Bruce had come through.

_Yeah. Meet me at my place in thirty?_

_On my way._

There, done. The plan was in motion. Now all Hal could do was wait.

It gave him far too much time to think.

He still wondered why it had taken Dick so long to pick up the communicator. When he’d told him to call as he left, Hal hadn’t really meant it as a joke; sure, it might have come across as a silly, flirty one before he vanished, but it had been a painful six weeks leading up to Dick’s first message. Hal had almost started to wonder if he’d done something wrong, but no matter how much he wracked his brains, he couldn’t come up with anything that might have upset Dick. Well, aside from the obvious - him leaving - but he knew Dick wouldn’t blame him for something that was out of his control.

So why had it taken him so long to reach out? Hal had kept his communicator on his wrist from day one of being back on Oa.

It couldn’t be as simple as Dick not knowing how to use it. If it was, Hal was certain that he would have joked about it once they _did_ start texting. Besides, Dick was smart, and he had three clever brothers. One of them would have figured it out if it was that.

So it had to be something emotional. Dick had seemed delighted enough to speak to him, though, so Hal was at a total loss.

Maybe it was just the same thing it had always been: the distance.

_Tap, tap, tap._

He bolted upright at the sound of a knock at his door. “Coming!”

There was barely time to open it properly before Dick crashed into his arms. Hal’s laugh was swallowed up in a kiss instantly, even as Dick backed him up against the entryway wall. Somewhere, he heard the door slam shut, and realised that Dick must have kicked it closed behind him, but then Hal’s brain abruptly stopped working when Dick’s hands skimmed up his sides, just as it always did when they touched his bare skin.

“When did you get back?” Dick asked breathlessly, mumbling the words against his lips.

Hal tangled his fingers in Dick’s jacket, hauling him closer. “Mm, would you kill me if I said two days ago?”

In response, Dick kissed him harder. Hal’s head thunked back against the wall as his lips wandered down the line of Hal’s jaw. 

“Resting up?” He paused, as if only just noticing Hal’s shirt. “Or…?”

“I was trying to figure out a nice date,” Hal admitted. His eyes stayed squeezed shut, mostly just to avoid Dick’s gaze, but he didn’t have to worry; he drifted in to press his mouth against the bolt of Hal’s jaw again, like they were two magnets drawn together. “Fuck, forget about dinner, though. I’m hard as a fucking _diamond.”_

Dick laughed, soft and breathy against his neck, and Hal felt his hair stand on end. “We can stop to eat, Hal-”

“Are you kidding me? You want to stop after two months of not fucking?” Hal dipped down to catch Dick’s lips with his own again, encouraging a low groan out of him with a light nip. “I fucking _missed_ you.”

 _“Fuck,_ I missed you, too.” Dick pressed the full line of his body against Hal. He shivered at the feeling of Dick’s hips against his own; Dick was hard too, shifting against Hal as they kissed, and it took all the willpower Hal could summon to not just drop to his knees right then and there. 

The date could wait. He could make Dick dinner and give him flowers later. Right now, Hal just wanted to blow his mind, among other things.

Reluctantly, Hal pushed him back, though it wasn’t far. It was just enough to grab Dick by the hand and tug him towards the hallway leading to his bedroom, just to get them there before things went too far for them to easily relocate. 

This time, Hal nudged Dick back onto the bed, urging him to sit. Hal leaned over him to kiss him, hands roaming across Dick’s shoulders for a greedy second just to feel the hard muscle under his shirt; Dick was deceptively packed with strength, despite how clearly toned he was once his clothes came off. Sure, he was a little slimmer than Hal, but he was pretty sure Dick could easily pick him up if he wanted, and he definitely didn’t need any superpowers to do it. It was _hot._

One of Dick’s arms came up to loop around his waist and pull him closer, and he gladly came down to straddle Dick’s lap, planting his knees on the bed either side of his hips. Dick’s hands wandered to his sides then, easing under the hem of his shirt as they kissed, long and slow now that the initial burn had lowered to a simmer. Hal was still achingly hard, but it faded into the background for just a moment as he appreciated the feeling of simply being there with Dick. 

God, Hal wished he could just bottle up this moment and keep it. 

He shoved his hands under the flaps of Dick’s jacket, urging it off of his shoulders, and then went for the hem of his shirt to pull that over his head, too. He pressed his palms against bare skin, tracing the hints of muscle as he trailed his fingers south. 

Dick shivered. “Hal-”

“Can I blow you?” 

_“Fuck.”_ Dick half laughed, half groaned as his head thunked down onto Hal’s shoulder. “Yeah, please. You’re not screwing around today, are you?”

“I told you, two months.” Hal stole one more kiss before he clambered off of Dick’s lap, only to sink to the floor between his knees. “Two months, and I had a hot guy waiting for me back at home. _Of course_ I’m not screwing around.”

It was intended as a joke, but Hal’s stomach twisted nervously. _Waiting._ He hadn’t wanted to keep Dick waiting, that was the whole _point_ of this entire arrangement, and it was also why he’d planned on asking Dick out officially tonight. The thought of it closed his throat up for a moment - which was sort of a problem, given what he wanted to do - so he busied himself with tugging Dick’s jeans down and swallowing past the block in his esophagus. 

This was _not_ the time to have a crisis.

Dick didn’t seem to notice. That, or he didn’t comment - or maybe he was having his own internal meltdown over the same thing. Hal could only pray that he hadn’t fucked things up.

“And I mean,” Hal said, joking, trying to bring himself back down to Earth, “can you blame me for being eager? Have you _seen_ yourself?”

Dick leaned back on his hands, looking far too relaxed for the situation. Predictably, Hal thought it was pretty damn hot. “You’re not the only one who’s been waiting two months,” he pointed out, eyebrow raised. “What was I supposed to do when you were halfway across the galaxy?”

“You could’ve jerked off,” Hal pointed out. He leaned in, nosing at the inside of Dick’s thighs. 

Dick laughed. “Who said I didn’t?” 

The whine that bubbled up in Hal’s throat was _shameful._ Just the picture of Dick, sprawled back on his bed, touching himself…

That did things to Hal. He tucked that thought away for later.

“You’re too hot,” he muttered, lightly kissing the skin next to his mouth. “I changed my mind, you can’t talk about stuff like that.”

“You brought it up.” Dick was still smiling as his fingers threaded into Hal’s hair. 

“And now I really, really regret it,” Hal groaned. “Did you, though?”

Dick hummed above him in place of a wordless confirmation. Hal closed his eyes as he pressed his lips against the hard line of Dick through his underwear, smirking at the breathy noise he got for his efforts. It was flattering, especially considering he hadn’t even started yet. 

He looked up at Dick through his eyelashes. “What did you think about?”

“You.” Dick’s fingers flexed in his hair as Hal tucked his fingers under the waistband of his underwear. “This. _Us.”_

“You can use more than one word,” Hal teased. When Dick raised his hips, Hal shoved his underwear down with his jeans. It left Dick wonderfully naked, a sight that Hal had sorely missed. 

“Excuse me for being a little _distracted.”_

Hal grinned as he curled his fingers around Dick’s base. “You’re excused.” 

Dick rolled his eyes, but he crumpled into laughter. _“God,_ you’re an asshole.”

“You love it.”

The words tripped over Hal’s tongue before he knew he was saying them, and then before either of them could think on the implication too much, he decided to barge right ahead. He licked a bold stripe up the underside of Dick’s cock, right from the circle of his fingers to the tip, and Dick made a choked off noise of surprise at the sudden burst of pleasure. It worked perfectly as a distraction for the both of them, just like Hal had intended.

And, God, Hal had missed this. He did every time. There was something so intoxicating about the way Dick just relaxed whenever they were together, opening himself up to the idea of vulnerability; Hal recognised it in himself too. It took a special kind of someone to make a hero let their guard down. 

Dick was Hal’s kryptonite, and he drew the comparison knowing full well that Clark would have his head if he ever heard it aloud.

He didn’t try to be neat as he made his way up Dick’s length, dragging the flat of his tongue along his skin in broad strokes designed to make Dick twitch up against his mouth. It was only when a strangled, desperate moan worked its way out of Dick’s throat that Hal flicked his tongue over the head, lapping up the precome that had beaded there. 

“Hal,” Dick rasped.

Playfully, he kissed the head. “Mhm?”

“Remember the whole two months thing?” His fingers rustled through Hal’s hair, shifting to cup the back of his head instead. It wasn’t to push - Dick was too polite for that - but it _was_ nice to feel his palm curving to fit against his scalp. “Yeah, I’d _really_ appreciate it if we hurried up.”

Granted, Hal felt the same - his pants didn’t exactly feel loose on him right now - so he decided to be a little merciful this time. Next time, maybe not so much.

He let Dick thrust gently into his mouth, pressing the head past Hal’s lips. His eyes drifted shut as Dick moved with shallow little rocks of his hips, lost in the relieved sigh from overhead. It was easy, _pleasurable,_ to let Dick take the lead for a moment; Hal relished the weight of him on his tongue, the way Dick’s fingers clenched just slightly in his hair as he eased in again. One day, he swore he’d ask Dick to actually fuck his mouth, but Hal did want to be a more active participant this time around.

Gently, he squeezed around the base of his cock, and Dick’s thighs twitched on either side of his head. “Fuck,” he breathed, “your _mouth,_ Hal…”

Hal hummed, quiet and amused, and Dick groaned at the slight, and deliberate, vibration. Slowly, teasingly, he withdrew just enough that he could comfortably sink down again. It dragged another raw noise out of Dick’s throat, and Hal shivered pleasantly at the sound as he ground the heel of his palm against himself. He didn’t want to get off this way, but he needed the relief of _something,_ even if it was only momentary.

He kept his hand loosely curled around him, stroking and squeezing with a light enough touch to compliment the swirl of his tongue against his cock. He wasn’t in any rush; this was far too enjoyable, much too satisfying after months of nothing to get it over with fast.

And then Dick moaned his name again, short and tight with want, and Hal forgot all about taking things slowly.

He muffled a soft noise of his own, his head spinning as his stroking sped up. If Dick kept making sounds like that, Hal was going to be a goner before he even undressed.

“Not gonna last long,” Dick panted, the corner of his mouth quirking up. As Hal peered up at him, Dick pried his eyes open, only to slam them shut again a second later at the sight of Hal with his mouth on him. _“Shit._ Really not gonna last long.” Somehow, he huffed out a sound that was suspiciously close to a disbelieving laugh, and he added, “Those two months did a number on me.”

Hal tried not to snort unattractively around his cock. Instead, he hummed a sound that was close enough to a chuckle, and it spurred Dick into a snicker of his own - that was, until Dick cut it off with a sharp inhale when Hal flicked the tip of his tongue _right_ under the head.

“Shit,” Dick repeated, bending forwards over Hal, “shit, _Hal-”_

He shivered, fingernails scratching gently at Hal’s scalp, and his lips parted on a gasping moan. Hal squeezed his hand a little tighter as he rolled his tongue against him, drawing out his orgasm for as long as he could. It wasn’t until Dick lightly pressed at his shoulder that he stopped, rocking back on his heels to swallow, more for the ease of clean up than anything else. Idly, he thumbed at a stray drop on his lip, swiping it away lazily.

Dick stared at him, his fingers curling into Hal’s shirt. “Jesus Christ, Hal.”

“What?”

“Come _here.”_

Dick hauled him up onto the bed, twisting to put Hal underneath him. He went willingly, grinning, as Dick pressed him down against the mattress. “Not even gonna sit in the afterglow first?”

His hands had already darted down to Hal’s belt, scrambling at the buckle of it to get rid of it. “Nope,” Dick said, yanking Hal’s pants down his hips. “I’m a little busy.”

There was a thump as Hal’s jeans hit the floor, and Dick’s followed it when he kicked them off of his ankles. It left him perfectly naked, and Hal’s palms skimmed over his sides with reverence, drinking in the warmth surrounding him as Dick crowded him down into the mattress. Hal wasn’t exactly going to complain if Dick wanted to immediately keep going; he loved settling down to enjoy the aftermath with him, but he _was_ still painfully hard, after all.

When a hand skated south, trailing past Hal’s still buttoned shirt to his underwear, he thought Dick was going to make a beeline for his cock. 

_Instead,_ Dick wandered past, his fingertips light and teasing as they wandered down the insides of Hal’s thighs, pinned apart by Dick’s hips. A delicate shiver ran down Hal’s spine, and he flexed his fingers against Dick’s shoulders. “C’mon,” he murmured, urging him on with a little rock. He _ached,_ desperate for Dick’s touch.

A touch that he didn’t grant right away.

Dick drifted down Hal’s body, plucking open the buttons of his shirt so he could kiss a winding path down to his navel. Hal swallowed hard and leaned back against the pillows, entranced as he watched Dick’s lips press against his skin, down towards the defined line of his hips. There, Dick nipped at the thinner skin stretched over bone, and Hal felt his dick twitch in his underwear. Dick just grinned up at him.

As Hal twisted his fingers into the sheets, Dick’s hands wandered up Hal’s calves again, sliding from knee to inner thigh in one smooth sweep. He curved his palms against the shape of them, his thumbs framing Hal’s cock, and _squeezed._ A noise spilled off of Hal’s tongue unbidden, his eyes fluttering shut at the electricity that crackled along his nerves and made him shift in Dick’s grip. He knew he was sensitive, but not _that_ sensitive.

“Fuck,” he hissed, only to shiver all over again when Dick did it a second time. _“Dick.”_

“Yeah?” He sounded way too smug, but Hal couldn’t exactly do anything about it right now, not with the state he was in. 

Hal bit the inside of his cheek to stop a whimper. “Just- _fuck,_ keep doing that.”

He could practically hear Dick’s smile. “I planned on it.” Tingles erupted along Hal’s hips as Dick held onto them; the press of his fingertips felt like a pantomime of when he fucked Hal, tugging him back into his thrusts. Dick only let go to rake his nails lightly, playfully, down Hal’s thighs again, and he bucked up with a sharp moan.

Finally, fucking _finally,_ Dick reached up to tug Hal’s underwear down. He pulled it carelessly down his legs, tossing it amongst the pile of their clothes, and Hal struggled with the urge to reach down and take himself in hand since Dick wasn’t going anywhere fast. 

He didn’t, though.

Dick dug his thumbs into the meat of his thighs as he leaned in, mouthing at the underside of Hal’s cock. He trembled under Dick’s hands, his breath coming quick and sharp; he was already far closer than he’d realised, and it took the gentle trace of the tip of Dick’s tongue to make him notice just how much Dick’s touches had worked him up. His eyes slammed shut as his head thumped back against the pillows, a whimper rising up in his throat.

His hips jerked up again when Dick parted his lips around the head of his cock, dipping down to slide it further back on his tongue. Hal saw stars.

He knew he wasn’t going to hold out much longer. He knew that before Dick even got his mouth on him. It was still a surprise when tingles burst from the base of his spine within mere _minutes_ of Dick sinking down onto him, though, brought on by a particularly hard squeeze of his inner thighs. His hand flew to Dick’s hair, clumsily tangling there to just _hold_ as he fell apart in Dick’s hands.

Dick pulled himself up a few minutes - or months, or years, Hal wasn’t sure - later, swiping the back of his hand across his mouth. Hal shuddered as they kissed, aftershocks racing through him in a pleasant little shiver when Dick pressed himself against Hal’s chest like he could climb in and live there.

As far as Hal was concerned, he already did.

* * *

He didn’t mention how incomplete he felt when Dick left the next morning; Jason had called, mentioning something about a lead, and Dick had left with a kiss that made Hal’s lips tingle. He’d promised to text as soon as he knew when they could schedule another date.

They had, in the end, had dinner after they’d cleaned up, but the roses had stayed hidden in Hal’s wardrobe. He wasn’t sure what to do with them now that they had wilted a little.

Truthfully, Hal wasn’t sure where the odd feeling had come from. He knew already that he and Dick fit together like matching pieces, whole on their own and better together, but it had never left him feeling like he was at a loose end. Dick came and went when Hal was on Earth, and he was used to that; he was a busy man, and his heroism didn’t stop when Hal took a vacation to visit. He was still Nightwing, just as much as Hal was still Green Lantern. 

Maybe it was the way his romantic plan had fallen apart instantly. Maybe it just hadn’t been the right move. 

_“I can run over to Gotham to take you out for drinks,”_ Barry said, his voice buzzing from Hal’s phone, _“because Hal, buddy, you sound like you need one or five.”_

“You know, I don’t think that’s a great way to deal with it,” Hal snorted. 

Barry whistled. _“Never thought I’d see the day where Hal Jordan told me what a healthy coping mechanism was. This guy is that special, huh?”_

Hal slumped back on his couch with a sigh. His phone sat on the arm next to him, a stupidly smug photo of Barry on the screen, dimmed now that they were a few minutes into their call. Idly, Hal constructed a ball to toss back and forth between his hands, just so he could fidget. Soundlessly, it slapped into his palm, only to flick back to the other again seconds later.

“Yeah,” he admitted, “yeah, he is.”

_“And he’s getting you to settle down. Jesus. Hey, who are you and what have you done with my best friend?”_

“Shut up,” he said fondly. “I called you to talk and maybe - _maybe_ \- ask for advice, not to get ripped to pieces.”

Barry audibly sucked in air through his teeth. _“Advice? I can see what I can do.”_

Hal caught the construct ball one last time, and as it fizzled out of existence, he closed his eyes. “I want to make a move, Barry. A ‘let’s be official even while I’m halfway across the galaxy’ kind of move.”

_“Then what’s stopping you?”_

“Everything,” Hal groaned. “Me going to Oa, him being stuck in Gotham-”

 _“Wait, Gotham?”_ Barry paused. _“You’re not dating Batman, are you? Because if you are-”_

“Jesus, no.” Hal stuttered into a laugh, full bodied and loud. It shook him down to his bones, wiggling something loose that had been lodged in his chest. He felt just a little freer. “No, but you’re close. It’s Dick.”

There was an abrupt knock at the door. It opened before Hal had time to twist, and there was Barry, his phone still in his hand. “We’re going for a drink,” he said firmly, ending the call. “You _cannot_ just tell me you’re dating Batman’s eldest and expect me to give good advice over the phone.”

* * *

Dick’s bedroom had changed.

It wasn’t by much. The furniture was all in the same place, and the usual framed posters and photos were still in their spots on the walls. As Hal wandered in and set his backpack down by Dick’s chair, though, he noticed smaller things: glowing stars stuck to the side of his desk, a home planetarium on his bedside table, and-

“Is that my jacket?”

“Yeah.” Dick scooped it up from the top of a pile of what he now realised were his clothes - his from the last time he’d had to suddenly leave. They were all neatly folded, tucked away on the seat of the desk chair. “You left it behind. Sorry, I meant to give all this back when you came home. I forgot to bring it with me.”

As Hal took the jacket, he felt an odd rise of emotion in his throat that he swallowed down again. Maybe it was just because it was his father’s - and he’d _forgotten_ it, he hadn’t even _thought_ about it since coming home, and that was enough to make him feel horribly guilty - or maybe it was the care with which Dick had looked after his things. In the end, Hal couldn’t quite pinpoint it. All he knew was that it hit him hard, and it filled up his lungs with a rush of affection for Dick.

“That’s okay,” Hal promised, thumbing the patch on the sleeve. “Thanks for taking care of it.” He glanced up, and as his eyes met Dick’s, the strange melancholy faded, replaced by a teasing smile. “Did you wear it?”

Dick looked away. If Hal squinted, he was sure that he could see the beginnings of a delicate flush on his cheeks. 

The thought of Dick in his jacket did do things for Hal, though. They were soft, sweet things, the kind that made him want to make Dick laugh in the way he did when he was surprised about it. It would be a good fit on Dick - Hal was just a little broader in the shoulders, but otherwise they were relatively similar builds - and even in just his mind’s eye, Hal knew it would be a good look. 

“Let’s go see if we can grab the couch,” Dick said, evading Hal’s question. “Maybe we’ll actually get the Xbox for once.”

Hal shrugged his jacket back on before they left, appreciating the familiar weight of it. He turned his nose in against the collar, and it smelled like Dick. 

He _had_ been wearing it. That was cute.

“You’re telling me that you guys only have _one_ console?” Hal asked, eyebrows raised as he linked his fingers with Dick’s. He followed him along the familiar route from his bedroom, down to the living room that the Wayne family usually shared. 

“Only one in the living room,” Dick shot back, grinning at Hal over his shoulder, “and as the oldest brother, I think it’s pretty much my duty to all _other_ older siblings to call dibs.”

* * *

Dinner turned out to be something completely unexpected from the Wayne household. Dick pulled him away from their game when Tim and Damian filtered outside, and there Hal saw a scene that he had never imagined on these grounds.

Jim was on the patio, grilling at a barbecue, and Bruce dropped a kiss on his cheek as he brought him a beer. Alfred was next to them, stretched out on a lawnchair with a book in his lap. Out on the grass, Jason, Tim, and Damian were all caught up in the excitement of roughhousing with Titus, who seemed utterly delighted to have people to play with. He sprinted between the three of them, tearing up the grass as he spun on the tips of his paws to race after Damian, who laughed in such a genuinely carefree way that Hal wondered if it was the same damn child.

Bruce looked up with a smile. “Hey, guys,” he said. He looked utterly unbothered by Hal’s presence, almost like he was expected to be here. “Grab a seat and a drink, food won’t be long.”

Hal tried not to openly stare. Bruce was in a shirt and what looked like fucking _swimming trunks._ He’d never seen Batman so casual.

“Come on,” Dick said, laughing quietly as he tugged on Hal’s hand. 

They settled in a pair of chairs near Alfred’s, but Hal was pretty sure that Jim wasn’t going to serve the food there. There was another table, a longer one, next to the grill, along with a cooler of drinks. If he remembered the layout of the manor correctly, they weren’t even that far from the kitchen, so the cooler was more for style points than anything else, he supposed. Dick grabbed them both a beer, and when he gave it to Hal, he did so with a fond brush of their fingers.

Just as Jim started loading the table with burgers and sausages - Bruce dipped inside briefly to emerge with extras like salads and various toppings - Jason jogged off of the grass, heading inside with a smirk. Hal looked after him, frowning. “What’s he up to?”

“Music, probably,” Dick said. He’d slouched down in his chair, and despite the position he’d contorted himself into with it, he looked utterly relaxed. It was a nice sight. “He always insists on being the DJ.”

 _“Because,”_ Jason quipped, reappearing with his phone in hand, “I always pick good music, Dick. You’d all be lost without me.”

Dick laughed as hidden speakers begun to pump out a bouncy tune. It was something pop, Hal thought, but he didn’t recognise it. Regardless, he had to agree that the music was in good hands right now.

Jim’s cooking, Hal discovered, was _amazing._ The man was a magician when it came to using a barbecue. He damn near groaned when he bit into his burger, and judging by Dick’s barely hidden laugh, he knew what Hal was going through.

At some point in the midst of eating - Hal wasn’t sure that he planned on stopping, given the mountain of food still there on the table - Alfred produced a deck of cards, and an impromptu game of cards began. To Hal’s surprise, the whole family got involved, even Damian.

“Letting your kid gamble, Bruce?” Hal asked, raising his eyebrows as Damian took his hand. 

Bruce shot him a look. Amusement tickled at the corners of his mouth. Next to him, Damian smirked. “There’s no shame in backing out now, Jordan,” Damian said, resting his cards facedown on the table. “There’s nothing wrong with knowing when you’re beaten.”

Hal snorted as Jim dealt him his cards. “I’ve played my fair share of poker. I think I know what I’m doing.”

It very quickly became apparent that Hal was out of his depth.

The Waynes played poker like they did their vigilante jobs: quietly, tactfully, and sneakily. Hal had never really struggled to read faces when playing with Barry and their other friends, but this group might as well have been at a _funeral_ with how stone-faced the rest of the table was. Even Dick was a closed book to him now, offering no more than sweet smiles that told Hal nothing. If anything, he almost suspected that they were designed to disarm him now.

Really, it wasn’t a surprise when Damian took the first round. 

It was frustrating when he took the third, with Jim scoring a neat little win in the second.

By the time Damian had racked up four to Jim’s three, Hal pushed himself back from the table with a sigh. “I’m gonna get a drink. Anyone else want one?”

When there was a chorus of affirmatives, Jason tossed his cards into the centre and stood. “I’ll help bring ‘em over.”

It didn’t strike Hal as odd at first. He saw a flicker of something on Dick’s face, something that danced close to confusion before it vanished again, but Jason offered him a smile, and he ignored the little alarm bell ringing in the back of his head. This was a first for Jason, and Hal was willing to accept the offer if it meant making peace with Dick’s family. He did, after all, want to make a move on Dick at some point, even if his original plan had been dashed aside.

They wandered over to the cooler together, and Hal crouched down to open it up. Jason propped his hip against the table, picking at the leftover food as Hal stacked drinks up next to him.

“So,” Jason said, considering a cherry tomato he’d plucked from the salad bowl, “you got your jacket back.”

Hal paused, fingers curled around a bottle of water. “I… yeah? Why wouldn’t I?”

Jason hummed around the tomato, and once he’d swallowed, he smirked. “I’m just surprised Dick let it go. It took him long enough to put it on, once it was there he didn’t take the damn thing off.”

He glanced over his shoulder, back at the table on the other end of the patio. From here, the conversation was muted, but the sound rang out across the garden as Jim shuffled the deck. Soon enough, the sun would start to fade, and they would be forced inside by the darkness and the chill, but in that moment, the rays seemed to caress Dick’s face and make him _glow_ as he tipped his head back with a laugh. His cheeks were rosy with amusement as he leaned over to ruffle Tim’s hair, only to be playfully batted away again.

Hal knew he was a goner. He’d known it from the start, but that moment right there was all the confirmation he needed.

“He wore my jacket?” Hal asked once he’d found his voice again. He already knew the answer, but he wanted to hear it.

“Yep.” Jason reached for a fry this time, biting at the end of it. “You know, you should stay around here more often. It’s not the same when you’re not here.”

The cooler’s lid thumped closed as Hal stood up, a bottle in each hand. Something swelled in his throat, cutting off his windpipe with the strength of it. “I don’t-” He stopped, cleared his throat, and started again. “I don’t wanna _intrude_ or whatever. We’re not even…” 

Jason arched an eyebrow at him, and Hal went silent.

“Bruce and Jim _weren’t even_ either,” he said, jerking his head back at the table, “and now look at them.”

Helplessly, Hal looked, already knowing what he would see: a couple so quietly in love that they needed only to share a fond look to have an entire conversation. Jim and Bruce were pairs to a matching set, with similar ideals and thoughts, and when Jim leaned back to rest his arm along the back of Bruce’s chair, it was with the ease of someone who was _comfortable,_ happy.

It made Hal think back to how he’d sat next to Dick, uncertain and wary of reaching out to touch him even when they were, currently, together, whatever that meant for them.

Jason knocked his elbow against Hal’s lightly. The drinks sloshed in their glass. “I say this knowing I’m about to make my life so much fucking worse. Go fucking get him already. I’m sick of seeing him mope around when you’re gone.”

He started for the table again, hugging various bottles to his chest, and Hal followed wordlessly. 

They shared out the drinks, and as Hal handed Dick his beer, their fingers brushed again. A jolt of electricity ran up Hal’s arm just from the brief touch. 

It made him bold.

When he sat, he draped his arm across the back of Dick’s chair, leaving his hand to dangle down over his shoulder. Dick leaned back just enough to rest against his forearm, and Hal tried to swallow the nervous flutter in his chest with a sip of his beer. He felt Jason’s gaze hover over them for a moment before it flitted away again.

He retracted his hand again once Jim began to deal, but Dick gave his fingers a quick squeeze before they went too far.

* * *

Later, once night had fallen enough for stars to pop into existence, the party moved inside. Hal helped Jim gather the leftovers to take into the kitchen, where the rest gathered to chat and pick at what was left of the food. Titus stood patiently next to Damian, and Hal would have been tempted to sneak him some scraps if he wasn’t absolutely terrified of Damian’s response.

As he set down the last plate, Tim plonked down two mugs of hot chocolate in front of him. “There you go.”

Hal blinked at them as Jim patted Tim on the shoulder. “Thanks, son,” he said, scooping one up. Tim beamed.

“I didn’t know what you wanted on yours, Hal, so I just got you the same as Dick,” Tim said, moving away from Jim to go grab his own cup. 

Hal curled his fingers around the handle, tugging it closer. It did look good; Tim hadn’t been shy about the whipped cream and marshmallows. “You didn’t have to, Tim.”

“We’re all having one.” Tim shrugged, blowing across his to cool it. “Let me know if you want any extra marshmallows.” 

He wandered off then, leaning back against the counter as he held his phone in his free hand. Hal lingered, feeling a little off-balance, only to jump when a hand touched his elbow.

“Relax,” Dick laughed, “it’s me. Come on, I think we’re gonna watch a movie. Let’s go grab a seat.”

It wasn’t difficult to wrangle their usual spots. Like last time - and all of the times before it now, Hal realised - Dick settled between him and Tim, and the rest of the group spread out across the living room as Bruce chose a film. Nobody questioned whether Hal would be staying; it was simply assumed in the same way Tim had made him a drink without asking.

They had slotted Hal neatly into their family, he realised. His presence was a given now. 

Dick’s arm wound around him, and Hal sunk into his side. This time, nobody even sent them a second glance, not even when Hal dared to press a quick kiss to the corner of Dick’s mouth. He licked his lips as he retreated; he tasted like chocolate.

There was something so honest and sweet in the way they had all accepted him without saying a word. Hal wasn’t quite sure what to make of it - the closest he’d come to this was the occasional dinner at Barry’s place - but he knew that he felt oddly comfortable here. Somehow, he’d given Dick his number almost a year ago now with the hope of a date or two, and he’d ended up with an entire family.

And, this time, Hal deeply, desperately didn’t want to leave.

* * *

_Are you home?_

Dick’s text came through as Hal ended a call with John. It was nothing surprising, more routine than anything else to confirm that he’d be making the flight back to Oa that evening. He’d known it was coming, of course - Hal’s Earth calendar only consisted of a few things, mostly all to do with Dick now - but he hadn’t thought about it too much. Now, reality had came back to shatter the peace once again.

Hal closed his eyes for a beat. He’d missed his chance. Again.

_Yeah, I’m home._

_Can I come over?_

And, because Hal hated himself, he slid his thumb across the keyboard to type a reply. _Sure._

He didn’t suit up just yet. He had a feeling that he knew what Dick was coming over for, and it didn’t feel right to stop him before he could get started. If it had been just a few days earlier, Hal might have let this scene play out to its fullest, and he would have accepted what came with a very, very long distance relationship.

He was so, so tired of the same old song and dance, but he didn’t think it was a good idea to start a relationship and then immediately leave for two months. 

Dick let himself in just like he always did now. He closed the door behind him, as polite as ever, and as he crossed the room to meet Hal halfway, he saw the subtle hints of determination in Dick’s face. Hal was pretty sure he felt his heart shatter as he came to terms with what he had to do.

Hal desperately didn’t want to break Dick’s, too.

“Hal,” he said, reaching for him - Hal, as weak as ever, took his hand. “Hey.”

He smiled weakly. “Hi.” 

A flicker of something passed over Dick’s face, sweet and fond, and then was swallowed right back up by that same resolve. “I- Can we talk? About us?”

“I wish I could say yes,” Hal sighed, bowing his head with a grimace. “Both to that and to…”

Something like irritation flashed briefly across Dick’s features then, there and gone before it had time to take root. “Hal, I don’t care about the distance. Seriously, I don’t. We have the communicators now, it’s not like we can’t talk.”

Hal almost laughed. It twisted up in his throat, hot and bitter, but he forced it away before he gave Dick the wrong impression. “Dick- Fuck, I want that, too.” He squeezed his fingers, and to his relief, Dick squeezed back.

“What’s the but?”

He almost couldn’t look Dick in the eye. He figured he owed Dick that much, though, considering how much it hurt them both to reject him. “I’m flying out tonight, and I don’t exactly want our first date as an actual couple to be an intergalactic video call.”

Dick went silent. This time, Hal _did_ see the hurt, and he felt it, too.

Something about this time was so painfully different. It felt like Hal’s heart was splitting in two, clean down the middle, but somehow still as agonising as if someone gripped each side and _pulled._

“You’re flying out,” Dick said eventually, flat. He reached up to rub at his forehead, exhaling a heavy breath as he did. “I should’ve seen that one coming.” He looked up again, peering at Hal around his fingers. “Are you gonna be back in time for Christmas?”

Hal winced. “I don’t know. I’m sorry.”

“No, it’s- it’s okay.” Dick puffed out a sound that was oddly close to a laugh, but it was utterly devoid of humour. “I just- I was going to invite you out for dinner tonight if you felt the same.”

“I want it noted that I _do_ feel the same.” Hal gathered Dick closer, as if folding him in against his chest could undo the ache of ripping off the bandaid. “Jesus, Dick, if you’d asked me yesterday I would’ve fucking _begged_ to make things more solid.”

He loved Dick. He knew that now without a shadow of a doubt. This time together had passed in a blur, even though it had been so long - ten months now, twelve if he included the two ahead of him on Oa. In the end, that would make a full year since they’d started this on and off again relationship, and they didn’t even have an anniversary. It was almost enough to make Hal’s eyes prickle with how _unfair_ it was.

“Ask me again when I get back,” Hal said - _pleaded._ “As soon as I’m back on Earth, ask me again.”

Dick nodded, and he surged in to kiss Hal, hard and desperate. Hal held him tight, clawing at Dick’s shirt with trembling fingers, and he allowed himself this one moment of weakness before he went. If he couldn’t have Dick now, not officially, he’d take the knowledge that Dick wanted him too, and he’d hang onto it until he came home.

* * *

As much as Hal wanted to, he didn’t call Dick right away when he arrived on Oa. The wound felt too fresh still, and talking to Dick would just be dumping a whole lot of salt on it before it had even had the chance to heal. 

It had been a long, cold, lonely flight back to Oa, even with the warmth of their kiss still tingling on his lips.

His quarters were much the same. Hal sunk down onto his bunk, his fingers hesitating over the communicator on his wrist. He hadn’t messaged Dick since their goodbye - it hadn’t felt right, not when he’d been on the brink of abandoning the call and coming back to Earth again - but he knew it would be a few hours at least until he was needed for something. 

God, Dick still held a tight grip around his heart even from thousands and thousands of miles away.

Hal turned his wrist away. He stood, and he made a quick exit through the door in the hope that there was a free patrol slot.

* * *

“You seem… different.”

Hal made a noncommittal noise around his mouthful of food. This time, it was a suspiciously blue soup. 

John stared at the side of his head, quietly examining him as he moodily dipped his spoon back into his bowl. Hal decided not to honour him with a response just yet.

“How are the communicators working for you?”

“Fine.” Hal put down his spoon in favour of his glass of water. That, thankfully, was the same as it was on Earth. “They work.”

John sighed. “That’s not what I meant and you know it, Hal.”

He exhaled a short breath through his nose. Hal felt tense, all the way from the hunch of his spine to the curl of his shoulders over the table. He had done ever since he’d set foot on Oa again. It had been a hard week of running himself into the ground with work, all in a desperate bid to escape the crushing weight of emotion over the mess he’d made with Dick.

Hal felt awful about it. He wouldn’t blame Dick if he _didn’t_ ask again when he came back.

“They work,” Hal repeated, tapping his nail against his glass. “We used them a little the last time I was here. There isn’t much to say.”

“And yet you sound miserable.”

Hal snorted. “Pretty accurate description, yeah.”

He bit back a grumble when John bumped their elbows together. “Come on, talk to me. What happened?”

 _“Nothing.”_ Which, Hal realised, was exactly the problem: nothing had happened, and they were right back in the same cycle all over again. Frustrated, Hal pushed his half finished food away and ran his fingers through his hair. “We were going somewhere and then I had to come here instead. So, you know.” He waved a hand. “Nothing happened.”

John didn’t speak for a long moment, and then he shook his head with a quiet huff. “Hal, I say this with the utmost respect, but you’re an idiot.”

Hal dropped his chin in his hand. He rolled his eyes. “So I’ve been told.”

As John cracked a smile, Hal’s shoulders sagged just a little; there was always some pleasure to be found in making someone laugh, even when he was at his lowest. “Just reach out to him, Hal. If he didn’t chase you out after that conversation, he’ll pick up.”

Privately, Hal thought that Dick would pick up anyway - he was too nice for that; if Dick was truly drawing a line in the sand, Hal had no doubt that he’d let him know. Still, his gaze strayed to the silent communicator on his wrist, eyeing up the time in the corner of the screen. It was Earth time, of course, with Oa’s just beneath it. 

It was afternoon in Gotham. Dick would be awake.

Hal picked up his tray. He was done eating. “Come on. Pretty sure Kilowog wanted help with training recruits.”

* * *

_Hey, Dick._

_Hi, Hal. How are you?_

It started slow. In a way, it felt like they were back at square one, back when they’d texted back and forth between their first few dates. 

This, though, was wholly different; whenever Hal felt the communicator buzz against his arm, it always sent his pulse skyrocketing with a terrifying mixture of excitement and fear. Hal could never decide if he wanted to throw up or swoon at the little screen whenever Dick replied. It was a gamble every time.

For a couple of weeks, it was just the same tentative texting. Hal asked about his day, and Dick would tell him about the mischief his brothers had caused, or he’d explain the plan of whichever villain had decided to terrorise Gotham the previous night. He couldn’t work out where they stood exactly, though, and he was too chicken to come out and ask in the midst of Dick’s charming chatter about his life.

Hal missed experiencing it for himself. God, he was done for.

_Busy. Got a lot of potential recruits to train and a lot of space to cover._

_Same here. Jason and I are looking into a lead on Penguin, so that’ll keep me going for a while._

As Hal laid back on his bed, thumbing at his communicator, he wondered if Dick did the same when they talked. Like this, Hal could almost pretend that he was at home and texting Dick on a lazy morning. Sure, his walls at home didn’t glow green, but if he closed his eyes then he could let his imagination do the rest.

He wanted to call Dick. As sappy as it was, Hal missed his voice. 

_Sounds fun._

_It’s not that exciting so far. It’s mostly just rumours, we’re just trying to find something substantial. Oa sounds much more interesting._

_If you count listening to newcomers whining about the training as interesting, sure._

_I meant patrols, Hal._

The corner of his lips quirked up. He could hear the texts in Dick’s voice clear enough, even without an actual phonecall. It was comforting in a familiar sort of way, smoothing over the ache that had lingered in his chest. 

Maybe, just maybe, John had been right.

* * *

Dick was the one to initiate a call.

Hal had answered a message on his way back down to Oa after a patrol, lazily looping through the sky on his way. Something about his attitude had drawn John’s attention, and this time, Hal smiled as they chatted. John didn’t call him out on it, but Hal was pretty sure his friend knew regardless.

By the time he made it back to his quarters, the communicator was buzzing repeatedly against his wrist. Hal swallowed back his nerves as he answered it.

And there was Dick.

He looked so small on the tiny screen. As Hal sat on the edge of his bed, he fiddled with the settings to project Dick in front of him; there, he was roughly the same size as he was in real life, and just a little bit pixellated as he shifted. 

He squinted at the communicator. Hal tried not to laugh. Even when he was confused, Dick was still devastatingly handsome, and just this glimpse of him made his pulse trip over itself in his veins. Of course he still looked good when he was glowing green.

“You can project it, you know,” Hal said, leaning back against the wall. “There’s a button on the bottom of the screen.”

 _“Where- Oh, there.”_ Dick sat back, his features relaxing. _“Thanks.”_

“No problem.” Hal tilted his head as a smile stole its way across his face. After all of the uncertainty of the last few weeks, this was so easy and reassuring that he wondered why he’d ever worried. Dick just smiled at him as warmly as ever, almost like Hal hadn’t pretty much rejected him only a few weeks ago. “I didn’t realise you knew how to call with these things.”

 _“Oh, ha, ha.”_ Dick rolled his eyes. _“I miss one button, and suddenly I’m no good with technology.”_

Hal laughed, and it rolled out of him like it usually did when he was back home. Dick’s expression softened. “I’d almost believe it if your dad wasn’t Batman. Aren’t you guys legally bound to be good with tech?”

 _“Something like that,”_ Dick chuckled. _“I hope I didn’t interrupt anything, though. I just figured you usually reply around this time, so…”_

Hal shrugged it off. “I just came off patrol, it’s fine.” He paused, fiddling with a loose thread in his sheets as he fought off a wave of uncertainty. “I, uh. It’s nice to hear from you, actually. I missed talking to you.”

It felt too vulnerable, like the idea of peeling off his suit on the surface of Oa. Dick just gave him that familiar, warm smile, though, and Hal melted all the way through. _“I missed talking to you, too. It’s quiet down here without you.”_

“Quiet? With your brothers?”

_“Well, quieter than normal. I wouldn’t be shocked if someone was plotting something.”_

A tight knot in his chest finally began to loosen. Just hearing about Dick’s family was a sweet reminder of what Hal had waiting for him back on Earth. There was a place right there with them, and while he still wasn’t best friends with Dick’s brothers, he looked forward to the day that he _could_ call them that. They all seemed welcoming enough by now, even Damian.

Hal lost himself to the chatter. It felt so natural just to talk to Dick, even here on Oa. When they eventually ended their call - Dick needed to help Jason with some snooping, and that meant heading out into Gotham - Hal splayed back across the bed with a relieved sigh for once, not a tired or frustrated one.

Maybe this situation wasn’t as hopeless as he’d originally thought.

* * *

He hadn’t considered the fact that he would run into Bruce at the Watchtower. It had happened before, of course, even after he and Dick had started dating, but he was never prepared for it.

Hal had flown in for a meeting, glad for the momentary distraction from Oa. It was all too teasing to see Earth gradually spinning beyond the windows, but also comforting in a strange way. Would it be so bad to take a quick detour before he left for Oa?

It would, of course, be a terrible idea. The other Lanterns were expecting him, and if Hal landed now, he knew he wouldn’t be able to peel himself away.

As he’d waited for the rest of the League to arrive, Hal had settled at his usual seat at the table, and he’d taken the opportunity to stare out at the stars. The room was much smaller here, much more contained; it was only a core League meeting, after all, so there was no need for the auditorium they used for wider groups. He waved a greeting when Clark and Diana arrived of their own accord, only to tuck themselves into a corner for a hushed conversation that Hal elected not to take part in. J’onn wasn’t far behind them.

The doors whirred, and then there was a red blur that came to a standstill next to Hal. Barry grinned at him from behind his mask. “Hey.”

Hal kicked out a chair for him, beaming. “Hey, Barry.”

There was chatter from behind him, and in the delight from seeing his friend, Hal had almost forgotten the other two members.

Arthur paid him no mind on his way to his own seat, sinking into it with a sigh. Bruce, however, pinpointed Hal with those terrifyingly blank eyes through the mask, and for a split second, Hal thought he was about to pounce on him.

But then Bruce smiled, and he passed by Hal to head to his own chair.

Next to him, Barry raised an eyebrow and leaned in. “You got him to smile?” he murmured. “You must’ve made a good impression.”

Hal elbowed him. “Shut up, Bar.”

The meeting began once Clark and Diana sat, and Hal was glad for the chance to pretend that Bruce wasn’t basically his in-law. Keeping things to business was easy and safe, even with a few jokes thrown in here and there. Work was serious, but it was also his shield, and Hal clung to it with a terrifyingly tight grip.

Afterwards, though, there was the dreaded casual talk. It was an inescapable fact, and while Hal usually loved it for the way it delayed a boring flight back, right now he wasn’t entirely sure if he’d make it back alive. 

Especially not with Bruce making a beeline for him.

Barry patted his shoulder. “Good luck,” he said, and then he disappeared, only to reappear next to Arthur and J’onn.

“Hal,” Bruce said quietly, once he was close enough, “can I borrow you for a moment?”

“Sure,” he replied easily, getting to his feet. “In here or outside?”

“Outside.”

He was definitely about to die.

As Bruce swept his way out of the meeting room, his cape fluttering behind him, Hal trailed after him. He could only hope that one of the others would come to his rescue if he yelled; knowing Batman’s trickery, Hal would only be able to evade him for so long.

The door closed, leaving them standing out in the corridor. Bruce reached up to remove the cowl, tucking it under his arm instead.

He looked bizarrely awkward. Hal hadn’t been expecting that.

“How are you?” Bruce asked.

Hal blinked. “I’m… fine?”

“And how are things? With Dick, I mean.”

Hal could think of a billion things he’d rather talk to Bruce about. His relationship with his son was right at the bottom of the pile, buried beneath other, much more unpleasant topics, all usually related to League work. 

Frustratingly, Hal could feel colour rising to his cheeks. “It’s, you know, fine. Would be better if I was on Earth, but-”

“I know. Dick told me.”

“And you _don’t_ want to kill me? Shocking.”

Bruce laughed quietly. “For the last time, Hal, I don’t want to kill you.”

Hal snorted and, despite himself, he smiled. Still, he promptly shot himself in the foot, simply because he couldn’t help himself. “That’s a strong promise considering I’ve been stringing your son along for close to a year now.”

“You know as well as I do that you haven’t been _‘stringing him along’,_ Hal.”

So he’d been that obvious all along. Hal slumped back against the wall behind him with a sigh. “Yeah,” he admitted. “Is he okay?”

Bruce came around to lean next to him, idly crossing his legs at the ankles once he’d propped himself up. “He cheered up once you two started talking again.” And, when Hal shot him a look, Bruce added, “He mentioned that, too. Sorry.”

“Can’t keep any fucking secrets around here,” Hal muttered, but it wasn’t with malice. He knew Dick would go to Bruce about that sort of thing; what they’d been working with was complicated, and after all, Bruce was his father. “I’m glad he’s okay, though. I…” He trailed off, boxing up the desperate little ' _I miss him’_ he’d wanted to say. “I wish I could come back sooner,” he said instead.

Bruce hummed quietly. “It’d be nice to have you around the house again. I don’t think Dick is the only one who misses you.”

That took Hal off guard. Before he could gather himself, Bruce was already soldiering ahead, continuing with his line of thought. “If you’re able to, you should come to the manor for Christmas. There’s a space for you.” Bruce gave him a slow smile. “And some more of Jim’s cooking. He’s doing the food this year.”

“You didn’t need to promise me that to make me want to come,” Hal chuckled. He closed his eyes, grateful for the cool metal against the back of his head. He knew that there was an overlap in dates; he wasn’t supposed to leave Oa until a week after Christmas at the earliest. Hal hadn’t really thought about it until his most recent visit to Earth, though, when Dick had asked. He was used to either spending it alone in his apartment or with the other Lanterns who did celebrate, which wasn’t even all of the humans anyway. It had made for some very lonely Christmases.

Now, though, Hal wondered if he might be able to get back home early.

* * *

The next time that Hal called Dick, he was in a Christmas sweater. It was clearly homemade - Alfred, if Hal had to guess - given the obvious black and blue theme to it that was just a _little_ too perfectly matched to Nightwing, but Dick looked absolutely cosy. Hal’s heart did a little jump in his chest, warm at the sight of a smiling, comfortable Dick.

“Cute,” he said, leaning onto his hand with a grin. They had each set their communicators on their bedside tables so they could move around a little easier, and Hal was grateful for it now. It meant that he could lean against his pillows instead of the wall. 

_“This?”_ Dick plucked at the front of his sweater. _“It’s not cute, but Alfred insists around this time of year, so here I am.”_

Hal couldn’t stop drinking in the sight of him. His hair seemed to have grown out a little more - it flopped over Dick’s eyes just a touch more than it had a couple of weeks go - and he just didn’t stop smiling in that devastatingly sweet way. Hal wanted to scoop him up and plant a kiss right there on his cheek. “Well, I happen to agree with Alfred this time. It’s adorable.” 

_“Of course you think it’s adorable,”_ Dick sighed fondly. 

“Oh my God, wait.” Hal sat up, grinning. “Does that mean Jason’s wearing one? Damian? _Jim?_ Actually, now that I think about it, a Christmas sweater would suit Jim.”

Dick laughed, lounging back against the head of his bed. _“Yeah, Jim definitely looks the part. He’s enjoying it.”_ He perked up, grinning. _“Hey, are you gonna make it back in time? You should come by if you do. Babs is coming, too.”_

“I’ll see if I can make it,” Hal said, carefully evading a definitive answer. “I’d definitely like to. I might be a little late on getting everyone gifts, though.”

_“You don’t need to bring gifts, Hal. Just yourself, if you can.”_

Hal’s gaze strayed to the Earth calendar up on his wall, right next to an Oa one. There, tomorrow’s date was circled in bright red marker: the 18th of December. Hopefully, a week would be enough time to grab _some_ presents, and if he was lucky, they would all forgive him for his lack of creativity with the time he had. 

“No promises,” Hal said, pretending to look a little downtrodden, “but even if I can’t make it, I’ll find time to call you that day. I’ll just have to give you my present when I’m back.” He feigned peering behind Dick, out into the sliver of his room that he could see. “You got anything for me hiding back there?”

Dick grinned. _“Maybe. You’ll have to get down here to find out.”_

“Alright, you got me.” Hal shook his head with a laugh. “That’s fair.”

Their conversation drifted from there, wandering from one topic to the next - Dick was still hunting for information on Penguin with Jason, it turned out, even this close to Christmas; apparently, not even criminals rested around the holidays - but Hal’s thoughts stayed firmly on his trip home. 

He’d been lucky to wrangle it. Another Lantern had agreed to cover those extra two weeks just so he could go home a little early; he definitely owed a few favours. 

That was a problem for later Hal. Right now, all he could think about was how It would be worth it all for the smile on Dick’s face on Christmas morning. 


	5. Chapter 5

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> You can find me on tumblr @capedcommissioner!
> 
> In case it isn’t obvious, by the way, Barbara is in her wheelchair here!
> 
> Note: Batcest/incest shippers do not interact. Comments are moderated so that I can keep people who ship these things off of my work. If you do not ship them, your comment will be approved regardless of what it says!

If Gotham was cold most of the year, it was _bitter_ in the winter. The heating was permanently on now, filtering through the drafty rooms of Wayne Manor to make them a little less chilly. It was focused on the areas they all frequented, but the trip from bedroom to living room still made Dick shiver every morning; there was only so much they could do, and all the radiators in the world didn’t seem to touch the fact that the corridors and lobby seemed permanently matched to the outside temperature.

The living room, however, was another story. It was already decorated for Christmas - had been since the very first day of December, thanks to Alfred and Jason - and coupled with that and the fireplace, it felt as warm as it did in the summer. Decorations glittered from the tree and the window frames, and the fire crackled away merrily in the grate. Alfred had even hung a sprig of mistletoe in the doorway, and so far Jim and Bruce had found multiple reasons to cross each other’s paths there, despite everyone’s teasing.

Dick burrowed himself into a blanket on the couch, covering as much of himself as he could. Even Damian had reluctantly cuddled up to his side to chase some of his body heat, tucking himself under Dick’s arm with feigned reluctance. He knew it was only because Titus had abandoned him in favour of the rug in front of the fireplace, but he’d take what he could get. Tim had looked on a little jealously when he’d come downstairs, and then had grabbed his own blanket to huddle under. 

The door opened, and Jason slouched as he dropped into his usual armchair. Dick fully expected him to tease Damian - he felt his brother stiffen under his arm like he was waiting for it, already on the defensive - but instead he just buried himself into a book. He didn’t seem to notice the cold; one of Alfred’s knitted sweaters was enough for him, and Dick knew it was probably down to the Lazarus Pit. It was one of the more subtle things that it had changed about Jason, but it was there nonetheless.

His phone buzzed on the arm of the couch. Dick gave it a mournful look before he snaked a hand out from under the covers to check it. Jim’s name popped up on screen when he unlocked it.

_ETA 10 minutes. You wanna come meet us at the door?_

_On my way._

He groaned as he pulled himself out from his and Damian’s nest, grimacing as a faint chill crept across his skin. Within seconds, Damian had slipped into the gap he’d left behind, greedily soaking up the warmth lingering there. Dick rolled his eyes but didn’t comment. He couldn’t blame him.

By the time he made it out to the lobby, Jim and Barbara were already there. Jim had her luggage, and they laughed together warmly as she ducked under his arm as he held the front door open for her. As soon as she spotted Dick, she waved, and Dick broke into a jog to get over to them a little quicker.

Barbara’s arms were already out for a hug, and Dick leaned down to wrap her up in it, burying his grin against her hair. “Hey, Babs.”

“Hey.” When they broke apart, Dick saw that her smile was just as wide as his own. It crumbled when she took a good look at him, though. “Oh, come on, you’re not wearing one of those sweaters, too?”

“What’s wrong with it?” Dick looked down at it, plucking at the hem. Alfred had knitted one for all of them, tailoring them to their hero colours. Dick’s was, of course, black and blue. Besides, Hal had liked it, and Dick had quickly changed his tune once the cold of winter had truly started to set in. “If you don’t like it, you’d better not saying anything around Alfred. You can’t break his heart at _Christmas.”_

Barbara laughed, shaking her head. “It’s not that I don’t like it, it’s just a little obvious, don’t you think? What’s Bruce’s, black and yellow?”

“Maybe,” Jim said, smiling a little too smugly. “Come on, let’s get somewhere warmer, it’s freezing in here. Babs, do you want me to take your stuff to your room?”

“Yeah. Thanks, Dad.” Barbara beamed at him, and Jim gave her shoulder a quick squeeze before he headed off. 

Dick tucked his hands into his pockets as he fell into step beside Barbara, letting her lead the way. She knew where to go; she didn’t usually visit just on Christmas, but she’d been a little too busy to drop by the manor in recent times. “So, how are things? How’s your mom?”

“She’s good. It was nice to get out of Gotham for a little while.” Barbara smiled up at him, and then Dick felt the full force of her analytical gaze as she looked him up and down. He didn’t shy away - they’d known each other too long for that, and she’d know he was hiding something anyway - but he was painfully aware of the communicator on his wrist. “What about you? How’ve you been?”

“Good.” Dick stepped ahead to hold a door open for her. “You know, same as usual. Jason and I are tracking a Penguin thing right now.”

“Mhm. Anything to do with your fancy new watch?”

And there it was. Dick’s fingers twitched with the effort of not covering it with his opposite palm.

“No,” he said, “that’s not related to the Penguin case.”

They both paused outside of the living room. Inside, Dick could hear the hum of the TV now; someone must have switched it over to video games instead. Judging by the bickering, it was Damian and Tim. 

The thought of Hal was like a weight in Dick’s chest, somehow comforting and terrifying all at once. The ache of missing him wasn’t as prominent now that they had a way to talk, and while he hadn’t heard from Hal yet today, it was a pretty safe bet that he would at some point. He desperately wished Hal was here for the holidays, but he’d make do with a phonecall.

Barbara waited with raised eyebrows, expectant. She knew something was up, and Dick figured it was better to tell her himself before one of his brothers blurted it out.

“It’s so I can talk to someone,” he said eventually. He leaned back against the wall, folding his arms across his chest. “Green Lantern. Hal.”

“Hal?”

“Yeah.” Dick glanced down at it. The screen was blank, leaving the surface glassy and reflective. Right now, he only saw himself staring back. “We’ve been… kind of seeing each other. It’s complicated. Good, but complicated.”

He could feel Barbara watching him again, as if she was picking him apart to study every word he’d said. “How long?”

Dick closed his eyes. “On and off for like… a year.” Give or take a few weeks, anyway. If he thought back far enough, he was pretty sure they’d started talking around the end of last year. He wasn’t sure that he’d be able to pinpoint it now, not without scrolling back in their texts.

“And before you ask,” he continued, opening his eyes again to meet hers, “no, it’s not official yet. Yes, I’m planning on asking him to be when he comes back.”

Barbara frowned. “What do you- oh. Space.”

“Yeah.” Dick chuckled without humour. “Space.”

Distantly, Dick heard footsteps: Jim was on his way back. He felt drained now, though, worn down in a way he couldn’t quite describe, and he wasn’t sure he could put up a smiling front like nothing had happened. Thinking about how he and Hal had left it last time did that to him; he’d spent so much time hyping himself up to ask Hal, to _tell_ him that he loved him, only to deflate within minutes when he realised just why Hal had looked so pained.

It still hurt. 

“Hey.” Barbara gently grabbed his elbow. “How about we go get some hot cocoa and talk about this?”

It didn’t actually sound like such a bad idea. The hot cocoa would warm him up, at least. As he cracked a smile, he said, “Let me guess, I’m making it?”

Barbara grinned at him. “Of course you are. If we go now, you won’t have to make any for the others.”

Dick rolled his eyes. “Alright, you win. Let’s go. If I have to make it for everyone, I’m never gonna be able to escape.”

* * *

When Bruce came home from work, there were more greetings and hugs shared all around. After Dick and Barbara had finished their cocoa, they’d emerged into the living room again to find that Jim had settled in for the evening, and was trying his best to keep up with the game Damian and Tim were playing. It was endearing that he was trying, chatting with them as they played to try and understand the rules. Barbara had settled in next to him, and Dick had reclaimed his spot on the couch after nudging Damian over.

Alfred joined them not long after, and once he’d greeted him, Dick chanced a glance down at his communicator. There was a message waiting for him, one that picked up right where his conversation with Hal had left off the day before.

_Is Babs there yet?_

_Yeah, she just got here. I think Bruce is angling to watch a movie tonight._

_Don’t tell me you guys are gonna watch_ Die Hard _without me._

_Nah. We’re saving that for tomorrow._

_You’re killing me here._

Dick snorted quietly. He ignored the suspicious frown Damian sent his way.

Admittedly, though, he _did_ feel a little better after having talked to Barbara - he’d walked her through the past twelve months, minus the details he wanted to keep to himself - right up to the last heartbreaking departure. Thinking about that conversation too much still left a sting in Dick’s chest, but it wasn’t from anger. It was more like a pang at a missed opportunity. If only he’d tried a day sooner, maybe things would be different now.

Either way, it didn’t change the fact that Hal wasn’t home for Christmas. Dick kept his face carefully neutral as he replied; he didn’t need the whole family realising how much it hurt, not right now.

_So what time should I call you tomorrow?_

_Depends on what you’re doing, you’re the one in a full house. Do you guys do the whole getting up early thing?_

_Not everyone, but I’ll be up. I could call you in the morning and then later too, if you’re not busy._

_I’ll get back to you on that. It’s weirdly busy right now._

Dick felt the corner of his mouth tug down. Of course it was busy; he was a space cop, and he did have a whole sector of the galaxy to patrol. _Alright. Just let me know when, I can break away from everyone to talk._

_Awesome. And hey, if I’m not around at midnight: Happy Christmas._

That pang echoed in his chest, louder than before. _You, too._

* * *

Morning came, and with it there was another simple _‘Happy Christmas!’_ from Hal. There was no promise of a time to call, not yet. Dick tried not to be too disappointed.

Predictably, Bruce, Jim, and Alfred were already awake, though Jim was nowhere to be found. When Dick padded into the living room in socked feet, Bruce greeted him with a warm smile. “Good morning.”

“Happy Christmas,” Alfred added. He’d made his own sweater too, a nice pale blue one, and he looked perfectly at ease in his sweatpants and slippers. There was already a half finished cup of tea on the coffee table, right next to Bruce’s mug of coffee.

“Morning,” he said, dropping into his favourite spot on the couch. If his brothers weren’t up yet, he was going to lay claim to it. “Is anyone else awake?”

“Barbara is with Jim in the kitchen,” Alfred said, settling back into the cushions with his cup, “but so far, not a peep from the others.”

“It’s still early,” Bruce added, shrugging a shoulder. It was rare to see Bruce so at ease, but here he was, his hair still ruffled from sleep with his pyjamas on. Dick desperately hoped that Gotham was quiet this year; he vividly remembered a few Christmases where they’d had to suit up, and it wasn’t exactly fun when they were hoping for a day off. Sometimes, the villain respected the holidays, but not every time.

Dick grabbed his blanket from the day before, dragging it across his legs. “Damian will probably be up soon. You might have to get Tim and Jason, though.”

Alfred’s eyes sparkled with mischief. “I’m sure the lure of presents and food will convince them.”

As Alfred turned his attention back to the TV - the morning news, and so far it was just about the snow that had started to fall the night before - Bruce turned towards him with a curiously raised eyebrow. “Have you heard from Hal at all this morning?”

Dick tried not to shift uncomfortably. Part of him regretted talking to Bruce about his failed confession, but he’d needed the outlet after coming home so wracked with emotion. Sitting down to talk to him had helped with just the basic task of plucking apart his tangled thoughts to lay them out before him for better analysis. He had no idea if Bruce had said anything to Hal - he had mentioned seeing him when he’d taken a trip to the Watchtower for the League - and quite honestly, Dick didn’t want to know. He didn’t need Bruce playing the part of an intimidating father. He just needed him to be a caring one.

“No,” Dick said eventually. “Not unless you count him saying ‘Happy Christmas’.” 

Bruce’s face remained neutral. It was faintly annoying. “Hm,” he said simply, humming against the rim of his coffee. “Well, if he calls, you’re more than welcome to disappear to talk to him. Don’t let us hold you back, Dick.”

The corner of his mouth twitched again, threatening to turn into a frown. Dick swallowed hard. “Yeah.”

Gradually, the living room filled with life. Jim and Barbara made their appearance, though it quickly became clear that she’d taken up the role of helping Jim prepare the Christmas dinner, so she didn’t stay long. Damian was indeed the next up, slipping quietly in with Titus at his heel, and it wasn’t much longer before Jason and Tim showed their faces, too. Tim, predictably, looked like he hadn’t slept much, and he slumped into his corner of the couch with a yawn.

It wasn’t until ten that they all finally piled into the living room together to begin handing out presents. Bruce and Barbara had taken it upon themselves to sort through what was under the tree, and Barbara tossed Dick a smaller parcel while she was still bent over the arm of her wheelchair to grab another. “That’s yours!”

“Thanks!” he called back. When he flipped back the label, he realised it was from Barbara herself. Grinning, Dick added it to the pile by his feet.

Distantly, the doorbell chimed, echoing through to the living room. Bruce stood, dusting off his knees. “I’ll get it. Jason, could you take over for me?”

“Sure, B.” Jason dropped to his knees on the floor, shuffling past a curious Titus so he could reach under the tree. Bruce vanished through the door, closing it again to keep the warmth trapped inside.

Dick barely had time to catch another gift before his phone buzzed with a text from Bruce. He laughed as he fell back against the cushions, hugging it to his chest with one arm as he unlocked his phone with his free hand.

_You should come out here._

His pulse immediately skyrocketed. Dick wasn’t entirely sure whether to get his hopes up or make a dash for his Nightwing suit. He settled on just going out there to meet Bruce, which landed somewhere in the middle of the two extremes.

Carefully, Dick placed the present on the top of the pile. “Be right back,” he said, forcing himself to his feet. Tim waved him off sleepily, but he was the only one to respond amongst the hubbub of gift-giving.

It didn’t take him long to see why Bruce had texted him. He stepped out into the chilly lobby, and his eyes were automatically drawn to a soft green glow.

Bruce stood there, chatting away warmly, while Hal laughed at something he said. Over one shoulder was a backpack, and over the other was a construct that looked suspiciously like a sack of presents; it matched the fake Santa hat on his head, glowing with Lantern energy. He was covered in a light dusting of snow, and as Dick watched, he hunched into his jacket a little more to ward off the cold. He didn’t stop smiling, though, and Dick’s lungs constricted.

When Bruce looked up at the sound of Dick’s footsteps, Hal turned to follow his gaze. Dick’s heart skipped a beat at the sight of Hal’s smile.

He wasn’t entirely sure what he’d planned on saying when he saw Hal again, but two words tripped out of him with a disbelieving laugh before he could stop them. “You _asshole!”_

Hal grinned again, openly delighted, as Dick strode over to join them near the door. “Happy Christmas?” he replied, making it sound like a question this time.

Dick crashed into him for a tight hug, burying his face into the crook of Hal’s neck. Finally, the persistent ache in his chest started to ease, though it still throbbed at the edges as he nosed into the soft lining of Hal’s collar. He felt more than heard Bruce take a quiet step back to give them space as Hal curled his free arm around him, but he didn’t look up yet. He wasn’t sure that he could.

“I thought you were on Oa,” Dick muttered, still playfully mutinous. 

Lips pressed against the top of his head. He could feel the curve of Hal’s smile. “I only said I couldn’t make any promises. Things worked out, and I figured I’d surprise you.”

Bruce cleared his throat, and Dick forced himself to at least lift his head. “I’ll give you two a moment,” he said. He tilted his head back towards the living room. “Feel free to join us when you’re ready.”

Dick felt Hal’s hand move against his back, shifting from a flat palm to a thumbs up. “Thanks, Bruce.”

Reluctantly, Dick finally pulled back, though his hands lingered on Hal’s arms. He had absolutely no idea where they stood with each other, but he didn’t want to let go of Hal, not now that he was here. Going back to the living room was the last thing on his mind, right next to how to even act once they got there. In this moment, none of it mattered.

Hal seemed to be watching him, waiting. Dick knew why. 

He didn’t ask yet.

“So,” he said instead, grinning, “is that supposed to be a Santa sack?”

There was a brief flash of confusion mixed with something Dick couldn’t decipher, and then Hal smoothed it out into a smirk. Dick tried not to feel guilty at putting off the conversation he knew they needed to have. “Yep,” he said, shrugging his shoulder to make the sack wiggle. “I’ve got something for everyone in here.”

Dick glanced at the bulge of it; it was just translucent enough that he could see shadow shapes inside. “You didn’t have to get presents, Hal.”

“Well, I couldn’t show up with only something for you, could I?” 

“Nobody would’ve blamed you.” Dick eyed Hal’s backpack. Something inside him prickled with hope. “So… are you staying for Christmas dinner? And after, maybe?”

It was one of the few times Hal had looked hesitant. It was odd to see on his face, especially when he was usually so cocky. He looked away, down at the floor past Dick’s arm for a moment, as if to gather enough strength to speak. “If you’ll have me,” he said carefully. “I can just drop these off and go-”

Dick grabbed his hand in his own. Hal went silent. 

“Come on,” he said, tugging on his fingers. A shy smile of his own pulled at his lips, and when Hal echoed it, he followed.

* * *

Barbara’s gaze snapped to them as soon as they made it back to the living room, and Dick was pretty sure he could feel it burning on his fingers where they had stayed intertwined with Hal’s. He wasn’t entirely sure that he could let go now; they felt locked together, and that was just fine by him. When he met Barbara’s eyes and saw her raised brow, he just gave a slight shake of his head, and she left him alone.

Hal dissolved the constructed sack once it was by the Christmas tree, leaving the presents to tumble out into a pile. He handed them out, and then settled back on the couch next to Dick to watch everyone open them, seemingly content to have nothing for himself. 

That was, until Alfred placed a neatly wrapped parcel on his knee. “For you, Hal,” he said, smiling politely.

Dick bit back a grin as Hal tore at the paper. He twisted to face him a little better, watching eagerly as Hal revealed something knitted, and tugged it free to reveal his very own sweater, courtesy of Alfred’s knitting. He had, naturally, worked with green and white as his theme, and on top of the Green Lantern logo over the torso, there was a little menorah amongst the snowflakes drifting across the background.

“Wh- How did you know?” Hal asked, shooting Alfred a look full of pure surprise. Dick suppressed a quiet laugh. “I’m not even practicing, how did you…?”

There was a twinkle in Alfred’s eye. “I’m sure you’re familiar with how thorough Bruce’s background checks can be for the League. I simply observed, and wished to make you feel more welcome.”

Hal’s face was lit up with something Dick recognised intimately, and it made his heart skip to see it so openly. He was clearly touched, and in a blink, he was tugging it on over his head. Now, Dick realised, he matched the rest of them; even Jason was wearing his Alfred sweater, because he could never resist making him happy.

“Thanks,” Hal said, smoothing out the wrinkles. He stared down at the design over his heart, fingers tracing the patterns and the edges of the Lantern symbol. “I wasn’t… I wasn’t expecting anything.”

As Dick watched Hal smile, he felt Alfred’s gaze come to rest on him. He chose not to meet it, not when he could feel his cheeks turning pink. “I had a feeling you would be with us this year, Hal,” Alfred said kindly. “I’m glad you like it.”

Alfred turned away again to thank Damian for his gift, and Hal nodded towards Dick’s last unopened present. He’d deliberately left it as soon as he’d spotted the _‘From Hal’_ on the label. “You gonna open it?”

Hal looked nervous, Dick realised, but he was trying his best to play it cool; he fidgeted a little, lacing and unlacing his fingers, as if he couldn’t decide which was more comfortable. Something twisted in Dick’s chest, curious and concerned all at once, but he put that aside and pulled the gift into his lap. He turned little square package over in his hands, examining it in an effort to try and figure out the contents. “Yours is in my room,” he said, pointing up with a finger. “We can go upstairs to exchange if you want.”

“I can wait until later.” Hal shot him a reassuring little smile. He still shifted, almost like he _did_ want to go upstairs for this, but he didn’t protest when Dick picked at the edge of the tape holding the paper together. 

The room seemed to narrow down to just the two of them as the wrappings fell away. A flat box the size of his palm dropped into his hand, and when Dick removed the lid, he had to blink for a second to adjust to the brightness of the little piece of glowing pink crystal nestled inside. It was attached to a length of black leather, almost like a necklace, but he could see from there it was far too long for that, and would take some adjusting if he wanted to wear it as one. The crystal itself was about the size of his thumb - small enough to comfortably hide in his enclosed fist - and as Dick stared, it seemed to glow brighter.

Hal’s arm settled behind Dick on the couch as he leaned closer. “Oa doesn’t have a gift shop,” he said jokingly, “but I figured something out while I was up there.”

“It’s _cool,”_ Dick said, scooping it up to brush his fingertips over it. The crystal was warm to the touch, and now that he looked a little closer, he realised that the glow pulsed almost like a heartbeat. “Hal, this is _awesome.”_

As Dick traced his finger across the jagged surface of the crystal, he felt Hal stiffen against his side. He glanced up, only to see that Hal’s gaze was focused elsewhere.

It was locked with Bruce’s across the room. 

Bruce’s eyebrows were raised, and his lips were parted in a gentle expression of surprise. Dick covered the crystal again, muting the flickering glow; with the moment broken, Bruce quickly looked away. 

There was something significant to this, Dick realised. The crystal meant something, but he had no idea what. Now clearly wasn’t the time to ask, not when Hal’s cheeks were on fire and Bruce was clearly aware and present, though Dick _desperately_ wanted to.

The door opened, and Jim stuck his head around it. “Bruce, can I have a hand with the food? I’m about to serve.”

“Of course.” Bruce seemed to get up a little too quickly, and Dick frowned as he vanished with Jim. He was definitely escaping. Bruce wasn’t the only good detective in the house.

Hal relaxed as soon as the door was closed. “I’m glad you like it,” he said. He offered Dick a smile, and while it was tinged with _something_ around the edges, the heart of it was genuine. “I was worried it’d be a little too pink for your taste.”

“I just figured you had trouble finding a green one,” Dick teased, grinning when Hal laughed a little sheepishly. 

He _wished_ he knew what the significance of it was, because Hal was clearly dancing around it; he ran a hand through his hair, taking the opportunity to neatly avoid Dick’s gaze for a beat. “Yeah, Oa didn’t have what I wanted. Told you, no gift shop. Oh, and you don’t have to wear it, by the way.” Hal tapped at the lid with a fingertip. “The strap was just to hold it. You can use it to hang it up, if you want to.”

“I guess a bedpost would work,” Dick said, and Hal dissolved into another quiet laugh.

They were summoned to the dining room for Jim’s Christmas feast not long after that, and Dick found himself bringing up the rear with Hal - which, of course, left them trailing under the mistletoe. Dick saw Jason shoot him a shiteating grin before he went to catch up with the others.

Gently, Dick caught Hal by the hand. “Hey.”

Hal paused, one foot out the door. He looked at Dick with a raised eyebrow. “Yeah?”

Rather than reply, Dick looked up. 

Hal’s fingers twitched in his. “Oh.” He paused, hesitating - and Dick abruptly realised that they hadn’t shared one single kiss the entire time Hal had been here so far. _Of course_ he wasn’t jumping to meet Dick there, especially with how they’d left things before; he was waiting for him to make the first move. “Do you-” He stopped, licked his lips, and then continued. “Do you want to?”

God, Dick was pretty sure he’d never seen Hal so careful. It was oddly heartbreaking; before, even in the manor, Hal had been eager to take advantage of a moment alone to plant some sort of physical affection on him, and now it felt like he was walking on eggshells. Dick knew that Hal was giving him space if he wanted it, but space was the last thing on his mind right now.

“Well,” Dick said, tugging on his hand to draw him closer, “we _are_ caught under the mistletoe.”

The ghost of a smile passed across Hal’s mouth. “I guess it’d be rude not to,” he agreed.

Dick’s hands found their usual spots on Hal’s sides, and his body thrummed with joy when Hal’s came to rest on his hips. He closed his eyes as he leaned in, deliberately bumping his nose against Hal’s on his way to his lips just to make him chuckle. 

Kissing Hal felt like coming home. It was slow and sweet - _perfect_ \- but far too short. Hal pressed his forehead against Dick’s with a sigh, his breath fanning out across Dick’s lips.

“People are gonna notice we’re gone,” he murmured. “We should catch up.”

Dick’s fingers flexed tighter into Hal’s new sweater. “I don’t care if you don’t.”

Hal laughed quietly, and when their lips touched again, Dick’s thoughts stopped where he ended and Hal began.

* * *

Later, after too much food and a movie - which, much to Hal’s obvious delight, was indeed _Die Hard_ \- they finally made their way back to Dick’s room. There, he hung the crystal over his bedpost, where it proceeded to cast its gentle light across his pillows. 

Dick sat with Hal on the edge of his bed as he handed over his gift. Much like the crystal’s box, it was on the smaller side, and Dick pressed his palms between his knees to trap any nervous energy as Hal tore open the wrapping paper.

It was a small framed photo, one of the two of them together. Alfred had taken it at the barbecue a couple of months ago, and he’d handed it over to Dick not long after Hal had been called away to Oa. It depicted the two of them mid laughter, pressed shoulder to shoulder - Dick’s arm was around his neck and Hal’s had settled around his middle - and their cheeks were rosy with delight. Dick had tugged Alfred into a tight hug for that, murmuring his thanks into his shoulder just so he could take a second to blink away any emotion.

Hal went still as he stared down at it, and for a moment, Dick wondered if he’d made a mistake.

And then Hal turned a blinding smile towards him, and he surged in to kiss Dick, almost knocking the frame off of his lap in the process. Dick caught it with a laugh and placed it on the bedside table, and then he eagerly met Hal halfway as they tumbled down onto his bed.

* * *

Asking Hal about the meaning of the crystal slipped his mind. The day after Christmas wasn’t even particularly busy, but the whole house seemed to be weighed down with the leftovers of Jim’s delicious cooking, so much so that Dick ended up dozing on Hal’s shoulder in the middle of another movie. It wasn’t until they headed upstairs for the evening that he remembered; before he switched on the lights in his room, the pink glow flickered into life, brightening as they stepped inside. Even when Dick hit the lightswitch, it was enough that he had to blink if he stared directly at it.

“Hey,” Dick said, closing the door behind them, “can I ask you something?”

Hal dropped onto the edge of the bed, and judging by the surprised look on his face, it was probably with more force than he’d intended. Dick realised his phrasing immediately after, and he swallowed hard; now wasn’t good, he reminded himself, not yet, not _yet-_

“Sure,” Hal said, propping himself up on his hands casually. “Shoot.”

Dick headed over to join him, and when he sat, he tugged the crystal’s loop off of his bedpost. As he cradled it in his hand, warmth trickled through his veins in the same way it did when he kissed Hal. 

“So what is this?” he asked, turning it over carefully. He already knew the surface of it intimately; every sharp edge and jagged curve was burned into his sense memory with how frequently he’d trailed his fingers over it in the past day alone. “You said you didn’t get it from Oa, so where’d you steal it from?”

“I didn’t steal it,” Hal snorted. When Dick looked up, his face seemed carefully neutral. “I… I got it from Zamaron. It’s another planet near Oa.”

“Zamaron,” Dick repeated. The word felt familiar in his mouth, but he couldn’t place it.

Hal nodded. He swallowed, and it sounded hard enough that it could almost be a gulp. “Yeah. It’s… another Lantern planet. Oa’s for the Green Lanterns, and Zamaron’s for the Star Sapphires.”

 _That was it._ Star Sapphire. Dick remembered reading up about that amongst the numerous files on the Batcomputer.

Dick brushed his thumb against one of the flatter planes of pink crystal. “The Green Lanterns are fueled by willpower,” he said. “Is it the same for the others?”

Hal was so still next to him. Dick chanced a glance over at him, and he found Hal already watching. His eyes were a little wide, and Dick could almost see the way Hal wanted to curl in on himself to hide the vulnerable spot Dick had just torn wide open. He already knew the answer to his question - he didn’t know everything about the Lanterns, but he knew enough - and he could tell that Hal knew that, too. 

“No,” he said eventually. Hal sat up, bracing his forearms on his knees so he and Dick’s faces were level. “The Star Sapphires are powered by love.”

Dick’s heart fluttered, and so did the crystal’s light.

He didn’t know what to say. Words failed him as he studied Hal’s face, saw just how far that open honesty ran right now. Dick had accepted the fact that he loved Hal long ago, long enough that he wasn’t sure he could pinpoint it now. There hadn’t been anybody else for him since they’d started all of this, and he didn’t think he’d be able to move on anytime soon if it ended.

Hal’s brows furrowed, and that something that had been haunting him finally came to the surface: quiet, desperate longing. 

“Did I fuck things up?” Hal murmured. His voice was quiet enough that it might as well have been a rasp. “When I left,” he added. “I just… You haven’t _asked,_ and I-”

“You didn’t fuck things up.” Dick’s hand darted over to bridge the gap between them. Hal tangled their fingers together instantly, grasping onto them like he was drowning and Dick was his only lifeline. “Hal, _Jesus,_ no, I just-” 

There was a frantic knock at his door. Dick was tempted to throw something at it. 

“Dick!” Jason called, his voice as close to panicked as he ever let it get. “Penguin’s warehouse blew up, we’ve gotta go!”

Hal held on tighter, and Dick felt his heart crumple up in his chest. 

“The Penguin lead,” he whispered, shoulders slumping. “I… I have to go. That’s what I wanted to tell you first.”

Hal folded like a house of cards, bowing his head over their joined hands. “It’s not in Gotham?”

Dick shook his head. “Blüdhaven.”

“Blüdhaven,” Hal sighed. 

Jason’s knocking turned into thumping. “Dick! I _will_ bust in if you don’t fucking-”

“I’m coming!” Dick exhaled a quick, heavy breath as soon as the words were out, just to try and get a grip on his irritation. It wasn’t Jason’s fault that he had interrupted at what was, quite possibly, the worst fucking time.

He stood, squeezing Hal’s fingers as he rose. The crystal glowed bright enough to be seen through the gaps in his clenched fist. “Hal, I’m- I’m _sorry._ I can’t wait-”

“I know.” Hal gave him a tired little smile. “I guess it’s only fair you’re doing it back to me now, huh?”

Dick laughed humourlessly. As he leaned down, Hal reached up to tangle his fingers in Dick’s sweater and haul him closer for a clumsy, desperate kiss. “Hal, I want to ask you,” Dick breathed once they parted, rushing the words out in the little time they had left. “Wait for me? Please?”

“Of course,” Hal promised, hushed and easy in the small space between them.

 _“Dick!_ We need to go, now!”

Dick tore himself away from Hal, hating every inch of space between them. “My room is yours,” he said, grabbing his backpack from the corner - prepared for quick emergencies like this, made in advance for when they had inevitably planned to go to Blüdhaven. “Stay as long as you want, Hal, seriously. I’ll be back, five days at most.”

Three words sat on the tip of Dick’s tongue. The crystal pulsed. 

Hal smiled at him, warm and just a little sad. “I’ll be waiting for you. Go be a superhero. Kick some ass for me, Nightwing.”

The door wrenched open, and Jason stood there, already suited up minus his helmet. There was a snarl on his face, but it quickly faded when he saw Hal, and Dick watched as understanding passed across his face; he knew that he’d walked in on something important, and for once, he moved back silently so Dick could pass and lead the way down to the Batcave. Dick couldn’t bear to glance back at Hal; his heart already felt like it was tearing in two, and he’d need every bit of time he could get just to pull himself together again before their job.

“Sorry,” Jason mumbled behind him, further back than Dick had expected.

“S’okay,” Hal said just as quietly. Dick’s heart clenched, throbbing at the raw edges all over again, as Jason politely closed his bedroom door.

It still hurt as they left minutes later on their bikes, carefully making their way through the snowy streets of Gotham and out onto the roads. Cold wind whipped at the tiny bits of the suit that didn’t cover Dick’s skin, and the crystal finally began to cool where it rested against the planes of his chest under the kevlar and armour. 

It was going to be a long drive to Blüdhaven, made even longer knowing there was an emergency there waiting for them. Dick had known it was coming, but he’d hoped for just one day with Hal before he had to leave.

There was probably something poetic in the fact that he had left Hal for once, but he wasn’t in the mood to think about it.

* * *

When they arrived at Penguin’s warehouse, they had to play catch up. The fight was long finished, and all that remained were the broken pieces of the building and the bodies of those that hadn’t survived the aftermath. The Blüdhaven police were already there, and they greeted Dick like an old friend when he headed over to hear what they had to say. Jason loomed by their bikes, silent behind his mask, and eventually broke away to pick through the remains for any clues.

Nothing. Not a single thing. Someone had had a grudge, and while it had solved the problem of the weapons stockpile there, it left them with nothing. In the end, they decided to leave it to the cops and come back in the morning in the hope that someone involved would revisit the scene.

It was late when they made it back to their Blüdhaven safehouse. It was a shitty little apartment in the city centre, and the only good thing about it was the secure garage on the ground floor. As soon as the door was closed behind them, Dick pulled off his domino mask so he could pinch the bridge of his nose. He had a headache coming on, and he knew it was probably down to his bad mood.

He heard the hiss of Jason’s mask releasing its locks, and when he glanced over his shoulder, it was tucked under his arm. He didn’t look Dick’s way, not yet; he busied himself with disarming, placing his bigger guns on the coffee table so it was more comfortable to sit. There was still a pistol on him somewhere, though. As much as Dick didn’t like it, he had to agree that it didn’t hurt to be careful.

A shower sounded like a good idea. Dick nudged open the bedroom door - two single beds inside, pressed against opposite walls - and claimed the one on the left by dropping his backpack next to it. Before he could start to remove his suit, though, Jason spoke up, quiet enough that Dick almost missed it.

“I’m sorry for interrupting you guys.”

Dick felt a bitter little smile twist at the corners of his mouth. “Not your fault,” he called back, digging through his backpack for his towel.

Jason grunted, and then he was silent for a beat. Distantly, Dick heard the soft clicking of Jason checking and clearing the chamber of his pistol. “Shitty timing, though,” he replied eventually. There was a clunk as he set something down. “Was it… Are you guys official?”

“We were about to be.”

“Ah.”

Dick stayed in his squat, pressing his palm to the crystal under his suit. He couldn’t feel it through the layers, especially with his gloves. It really was too long to wear as a necklace, but it was comforting to be able to press just hard enough that the crystal pressed against his torso. 

He missed Hal. They’d had just over twenty-four hours before he’d been whisked away, and it wasn’t nearly enough.

“I’m sorry,” Jason offered. “You can call him if you want. I can step out or whatever.”

Dick huffed a laugh and shook his head. “No, it’s fine. I’ll just… wait until we get back to Gotham.”

Jason went silent then, and Dick took it as a sign that he’d run out of things to say. That was fine by him. He appreciated what Jason was doing, but it felt like it was pressing Dick’s feathers the wrong way, pushing against the grain in a way that left him irritated and uneasy. He did desperately want to hear Hal’s voice - wanted to go right back to his bedroom and pick up the conversation where they’d left off - but he couldn’t bring himself to here. The walls were much too thin. 

“I’m gonna take a shower,” he said, reaching into the neck of his suit to pull out the crystal. Right now, it was just a pink shard; no light pulsed from it, and Dick had the feeling that it was because he wasn’t with Hal. It had been at its brightest when they’d been in each other’s presence, particularly when they’d been pressed close or talking about _them._ Carefully, he tucked it into his backpack, slotting it into a rolled up pair of socks to keep it hidden. 

The old TV crackled into life. “I’ll keep watch, see if anything comes up. Are your police buddies gonna check in?”

“Maybe.” Dick shrugged, straightening up with his towel in hand. “If they call, feel free to answer my phone.” 

Jason just grunted again, and he took that as confirmation; his eyes were fixed on the TV, and there was a heavy frown on his brow, dug so deep that Dick wondered if it would ever smooth out. He locked himself in the bathroom, and as he waited for the water to heat up, he leaned back against the door with a sigh, and finally let the frustration of the whole situation wash over him. It came in hot waves in his chest, throbbing at the edges of the aching wound there, and it didn’t pass until he eventually fell asleep while Jason took the first overnight watch.

* * *

When he woke to trade places with Jason, he had a text waiting from Hal, and a bunch more from the family group chat. As Dick settled on the couch, still clad in the shirt and jeans he’d slept in, he checked in with Hal first, and he actually found himself smiling despite how miserable he’d been since he’d left.

 _You know,_ his text read, _your bed is nice, but it’s way nicer with you in it, too. Does it really need to be this big?_

Dick exhaled a quiet laugh, conscious of the fact that Jason was trying to sleep in the next room. The text had come through hours ago, so he didn’t expect a reply when he answered it; it was far too early in the morning for that, after all, and Hal was probably asleep by now.

_Feel free to grab the giant turtle to share the space with. It’s literally what he’s for._

He tabbed over to the other conversation then, skimming back through the messages to see what had worked Damian up into such a state.

In the end, it was quite simple: Titus liked Hal. This was, of course, unacceptable. 

What followed was a series of bickering comments in the group chat between Damian and whatever members of the family had decided to interact, and there were even a few photos of Hal scratching between Titus’ ears - courtesy of Tim, of course. It was heartwarming, and it smoothed over some of that raw hurt that Dick had been feeling.

Before he could type anything, he saw Damian’s name pop up again.

_Richard, I see that you’re online. Come and collect Jordan immediately. I will not have him stealing Titus’ affection. He is not a lapdog._

_I’m still in Blüdhaven, Dami. And for the record, Titus is definitely a lapdog._

Damian went mutinously silent, and Dick bit back another quiet chuckle. Before he could switch over to browse the news, another notification popped up on screen. 

Hal had replied.

Dick’s heart rate spiked as he tapped the message. It was a photo, a clumsy selfie in the dim early morning light of Dick’s bedroom. Hal was shirtless and his eyes were barely open, and one of his arms was curled around the neck of the ridiculous stuffed turtle he’d bought Dick all those months ago. His hair was a mess and there were creases on his cheek from where he’d pressed it against his pillow, but Dick had never seen anything more perfect.

_Already got the turtle. He’s been keeping me company. You didn’t tell me that he steals the sheets._

Dick covered his mouth with one hand as if to muffle his laughter, but he was too busy smiling to let it spill out. God, he was glad that Jason was sleeping; he knew he wouldn’t be able to cope with the teasing otherwise.

_Was he the big spoon or the little spoon?_

_Little, but it was a close call. What are you doing up so early?_

_Work._

Really, Dick should have grabbed the laptop before he came over. He needed to pick up where Jason left off - there were papers scattered across the coffee table, random notes they’d made while they were just remotely following up on the Penguin case - but now he was thoroughly distracted. He couldn’t stop thinking about that photo of Hal, all ruffled and sleepy. 

A gentle smile touched the corners of Dick’s mouth as he sent another message. _Go back to sleep, Hal. I didn’t mean to wake you, sorry._

_It’s okay. I was up late anyway. I was helping with stuff in Gotham._

Dick blinked. Hal had helped before, but that had been when Dick was there, too. Maybe he _should_ have checked the news first.

 _Then you_ definitely _need to get some sleep._

_Only so you can finish working and come home. Do you know when you’re coming back?_

_Few days maybe if we’re lucky. We don’t have any leads after the warehouse blew up._

_Shit. Stay safe. I can always fly out if you guys need backup._

It was tempting, incredibly tempting, but Dick didn’t really want to subject Jason to that. It didn’t matter how professional they could be, not when it would be too easy to steal moments here and there. He needed to stay focused.

_It’ll be okay, it’s nothing serious. I’ll text you as soon as we’re headed home._

_Okay. Night, Dick._

_Night, Hal._

Dick hated the silence as soon as it settled, but this time, he neatly tucked away his feelings to deal with later. Instead, he tugged the coffee table closer so he could read over Jason’s new notes, and maybe he could try to find out what had happened along the way.

Because, in the end, Hal was right: the harder he worked now, the quicker they could get home.

* * *

Blüdhaven kept them going until the 31st of December.

The pieces came together gradually, almost painfully slowly over the course of a few days, and then it suddenly unravelled all at once. Dick and Jason went back to the warehouse the following morning to stake it out, and it was only in the light that they started to pick at the threads that knotted the whole mystery together. Somewhere in there, Hal texted to let Dick know that he was heading back to his own apartment; he admitted that he didn’t want to overstay his welcome at the manor, despite everyone assuring him it was fine, and Dick promised to visit him as soon as he could.

The explosion had, of course, been deliberate. Penguin’s thugs had been housing a cache of guns there, but as far as their research said, there hadn’t been anything that would have caused a fire of any sort; the stash had been formed entirely of firearms, most likely for some kind of heist if their other theories were anything to judge by. 

So the most obvious assumption was that it was a rival, someone who was unhappy with Penguin. 

“They don’t want him in Blüdhaven,” Dick said simply over their takeout dinner. They were both still suited up except for their gloves and masks, and they hunched over the coffee table as they ate. Dick’s stomach snarled at him, even as he swallowed another bite. “It was a warning to get out.”

“So we’re done here then,” Jason said. He gestured at their notes with his plastic fork as he added, “This shit doesn’t matter. He’ll pull back to Gotham, pick an ally from any of the usual suspects, and he’ll build up again.”

Dick frowned, pushing a piece of chicken around the bottom of his tupperware. “Or he’ll strike back.”

“With _what?_ He lost all his fucking weapons.”

Something about it didn’t sit right with Dick, but he couldn’t dispute the facts. He stabbed the chicken onto his fork, only to nibble at the edges of it thoughtfully. “What if he has a backup warehouse?”

“It’s possible. We don’t have a trail, though.”

“No, but remember when we were trying to figure out the location?” Dick popped the chicken in his mouth and put his empty container aside. He reached out to search through their notes as he chewed, and he hummed in triumph when he found it. “Here. We had a list of possibilities. That one was the one that blew up, but this was another contender.”

Jason took the page, and he started to scowl as he stared at it. “Shit. You wanna head back out? We can try to get this done.”

Dick was already reaching for his gloves. “Ready when you are.”

* * *

It became a stakeout, with Jason watching through a pair of binoculars from the next rooftop while Dick hovered at his side. Briefly, he thought of Hal, but it was only with the grim determination to finish this so he could come home in time for midnight. 

“Don’t you dare say I told you so,” Jason growled when one of Penguin’s trucks rolled up.

Dick grinned, and he could practically feel Jason rolling his eyes. Together, they grappled their way across to the roof, and once the thugs were all contained inside, they dropped in to ruin the party. 

Fighting alongside Jason was very, very different to the others. His moves were sharp and quick like his wit, but strong enough to knock even the most determined thug off of their feet. He carved a space through the room, and Dick fell into step behind him to protect his back and throw out finishing blows. It was an easy partnership, one that was comfortable and familiar. It wasn’t as graceful as when he fought with Tim or Damian, but still just as satisfying to launch himself off of Jason’s back when he crouched for him. 

He laughed as he landed, glancing back over his shoulder with a grin. “Thanks! You’re not a bad springboard, you know.”

It didn’t matter that he couldn’t see Jason’s eyes; he knew he was rolling them. “You’re welcome,” he huffed, jabbing at a thug’s midriff with his elbow. 

In the end, no shots were fired. Jason was good at that, these days. 

As soon as the thugs were all down, Dick called in the BCPD, and together they waited for their arrival. Jason stalked the room, the blank eyes of his mask sweeping back and forth to make sure nobody tried anything, while Dick leaned against the wall by the door. 

“Hey, Red,” he called, “what time is it?”

Jason paused, shaking back his sleeve to check his watch. “Ten-thirty. Why?”

Dick licked his lips, and he felt the way Jason’s gaze zeroed in on him. “You think we could make it back tonight?”

“Maybe, if the BCPD hurry up.” Jason tilted his head. Dick was sure he was grinning under the mask. “You planning on talking to your friend?”

He tried to play it cool, but he could feel the sharp edges of the crystal pressing into his skin. “Maybe,” Dick admitted. “We just need to grab our things and we can go.”

Jason laughed quietly, shaking his head. “Alright. Let’s see if we can get you home in time. If it finally means you’ll stop fucking whining, I’m all for it.”

* * *

Dick shot Hal a desperate text as soon as they made it back to the safehouse. He checked his watch as he snatched his backpack from the floor, and he cursed; it was already eleven-fifteen. They were going to be cutting it close. He just hoped that there wasn’t too much traffic at this time of the night.

They sped out of Blüdhaven in record time, racing back out onto the road that pointed them towards home. Dick had never been so grateful to leave the city behind them. 

He hadn’t even had time to change out of his suit. Beneath his motorcycle helmet, he still wore his domino, and Jason had only traded out his Red Hood mask for something to better protect him on the road. Naturally, these helmets were a little higher tech than the market standard, so when Jason popped up on the radio feed ten minutes outside of Gotham, Dick wasn’t surprised.

_“Dick?”_

“Yeah?”

_“Go to Hal’s. I’ll debrief everyone at home.”_

Dick almost slowed in surprise, but he gathered himself and kept up speed. His heart beat a furious pace against his ribs, pounding hard enough that he was sure it would leave a bruise. “Are you sure?”

_“Yes, I’m fucking sure. Go get him already.”_

He took the next turning, replanning the route in his head to take the quickest one to Hal’s apartment. “Thanks, Jason.”

_“You can thank me by not moping around anymore.”_

Dick laughed, marvelling at how it came free and easy from his chest. He felt lighter than he had in months, and as he revved the engine to tear down the streets of Gotham, he wondered how he wasn’t simply flying there. It felt like the city itself opened the way for him, folding apart to give him ample room to speed away, and by the time he did slow to slot his bike into the parking lot behind Hal’s apartment, he had ten minutes to spare.

He didn’t bother texting Hal. He could see the light behind his curtains; he was still awake. If he listened hard enough, he was sure he could even hear the muffled sound of the TV - or maybe it was just the distant crowd in Gotham Square, partying as they awaited the countdown to the new year. Dick hooked his helmet over the handlebars of his bike, pausing only to take a breath to steady his nervous buzz.

He landed on the balcony with an easy grapple, and then he grabbed the doorhandle to slide it back-

It was locked. _Damn it._

Dick knocked at the glass hurriedly. “Hal! It’s me!”

There was a silent moment when Dick wondered if he was even going to answer - he hadn’t texted ahead; did Hal have friends over? - and then the curtains _whooshed_ away from the balcony door to reveal a pyjama-clad Hal. 

For a moment, they just stared at each other. Hal’s lips were parted in surprise, and they slowly started to spread around a warm, delighted smile. His mouth formed the shape of Dick’s name, but he couldn’t hear it fully through the glass. Dick pointed at the handle and cocked his head, and this time, he heard Hal’s laugh as he fiddled with the lock.

“I didn’t know you were coming,” he said once it was open, stepping back to let Dick in.

“We left Blüdhaven thirty minutes ago. Hal-”

He was grinning, wide and tinged with so much sweet affection that Dick felt it stab in his chest. “Well, at least you made it in time for your midnight kiss.”

To their right, Hal’s TV was lit up with a feed of the Gotham clocktower. The hands inched ever closer to midnight; they were a few minutes off now, and Dick was running out of time. Oddly, there was also an empty photo frame on the coffee table - the one that Dick had given him for Christmas.

“Hal, wait,” Dick said, desperate. He reached up to tear off his domino mask, tossing it in the vague direction of Hal’s coffee table to find later. “I came to _talk._ I’m tired of stuff interrupting us-”

“So I should stay quiet, is what you’re saying.” Hal raised his eyebrows, a cheeky smile on his face, and Dick wasn’t sure whether to groan or to kiss him.

 _“Please,”_ he sighed, laughing despite the strength of the emotion bubbling up inside him. “But also what happened to the photo?”

Hal’s smile turned a little sheepish. “It’s in my wallet,” he said, nodding towards the table behind Dick. “I was gonna make a copy, but... I wanted to make sure I had a picture with me on Oa.”

Dick’s heart fluttered in his chest. That was surprisingly sweet for Hal; he could be wonderfully kind and thoughtful, but Dick hadn’t even thought of that as an option. It hadn’t occurred to him to think of giving him one for his travels.

Hal shifted on his feet. “I can put it back,” he said, “if that’s, you know, too much for what we’re doing-”

Rather than reply, Dick dipped a hand inside the neck of his suit, and he tugged the crystal over his head to hold it between them. The glow was bright and near blinding, and Hal’s eyes widened a little as he looked back up at Dick again. “Hal, I don’t wanna start the New Year without this. Without _us._ I don’t care about the distance. I haven’t for a while-”

The countdown started: thirty seconds on the clock.

Hal’s hand came up to cup Dick’s, his thumb settling near one of the sharp edges of crystal. “Me neither,” he admitted quietly, all traces of humour gone. “I wanted you to ask me again at Christmas.”

“I’m asking now.”

Twenty.

Hal’s throat bobbed as he swallowed. “You’re sure?”

Dick turned his hand over, clasping Hal’s with his own. The crystal sat between them, warm and visible between the gaps in their fingers. “Positive.”

Ten.

Carefully, hesitantly, Hal tugged him closer. He was heartbreakingly gentle with Dick, skimming his free hand up to his shoulder to ease him in closer. It was almost like he was still giving Dick room to back out, time to step away if he suddenly decided that this wasn’t what he wanted, but Dick had never been more sure of anything in his life.

They kissed with five seconds to spare. Distantly, the clock chimed, but Dick wasn’t listening.


	6. Epilogue

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Find me on tumblr @capedcommissioner!
> 
> Note: Batcest/incest shippers do not interact. Comments are moderated

This time, Dick wasn’t so alone at the League meeting.

The usual Bat table stood empty for once. Bruce was at the front alongside Clark and Diana, and Damian had immediately darted off to sit with the Teen Titans. Kori waved at Dick as Damian settled in next to her, and he smiled back, but he didn’t join them. 

Instead, Dick slid into a seat next to Hal. Barry was on his other side, busily chatting away with him; as Dick sat, Hal’s hand came over to squeeze his knee in a silent greeting, and his heart thudded in his chest. 

“Hey, Dick,” Barry said, pausing to offer him a smile. 

“Hey, Barry.” He nodded back at him. “You been here long?”

“He got here just before you,” Hal said. It might look like Barry had been here for a little while, but Dick knew better; he’d probably rushed in, and it was only because it had taken him a second to get from the teleporter to his chair that he looked so unruffled. “You guys were almost late. Clark was starting to actually look nervous.”

Up at the front of the room, Clark was indeed deep in conversation with Bruce, but Dick couldn’t see a trace of any worry. Part of him wondered if Hal was just saying that so he didn’t have to admit that, in reality, it was him.

The roll of Barry’s eyes told Dick everything he needed to know.

The meeting started not long after, Clark drawing attention to the board with his deep, calming voice, and Dick settled in to listen. He tangled his fingers with Hal’s under the table, idly rubbing his thumb against the back of his hand through their gloves. 

It was the same as usual, with a few updates from some heroes about smaller events. Hal stood up briefly to talk about things that had happened around Oa, and when he sat again, he casually tossed his arm across the back of Dick’s chair, like it was the most natural thing in the world. By now, almost halfway through February, it was. A couple of glances came their way, but Dick was too busy listening to Diana to pay attention.

When it was over, Hal stretched with a noisy hum. It was almost lost amongst the squeak of chairs scraping against the floor, but Dick heard it loud and clear. “Glad that’s over.”

“You got to hear your own voice,” Barry pointed out, rolling his shoulders as he stood. “Surely that was a good meeting for you?”

Hal shot him a smirk. “Better than most.”

Barry leaned past him to look at Dick. “Remind me again how you put up with him?”

“It’s my charm and my good looks,” Hal replied, hooking his arm around Dick’s shoulders. “Right, Dick?”

“Something like that,” Dick agreed, reaching up to pat Hal’s hand placatingly. 

Hal leered at him, but before he could come up with something appropriately dirty to say, Barry wrinkled his nose and held up a hand. “Ew, Hal, don’t. I don’t wanna hear whatever was going through your head. I  _ really _ don’t need to know about your sex life.”

Dick snorted, grinning despite the subject matter; if Hal hadn’t been playing it up so much, he might have been prickled by it, but he was more than familiar with Hal’s style of joking around by now: exaggerate beyond recognition, and embellish just a little bit. Odds were, anything he did get to say wouldn’t be even remotely close to reality. “You sure?” Hal asked, smirking. “Because-”

Barry tilted his head towards the front of the room. “Bruce is right over there, dude. You  _ seriously _ have no shame, huh?”

“Bruce doesn’t scare him anymore,” Dick said, shrugging as if to say  _ what can you do? _ “Or Jim, actually. I think it was Christmas that won him over, you know.”

Hal raised a hand in a vague attempt at surrendering. “Look, they gave me presents, so it was all over from there.” 

“Noted, I’ll keep it in mind next time I need a favour.” Barry grinned at them, and then jerked a thumb over his shoulder. “Listen, I’ve gotta run. I need to get back to Central, things have been busy recently and I don’t wanna leave it unattended for too long. You guys should come over for drinks sometime, though.”

“We’ll let you know,” Hal promised, reaching out to slap Barry’s shoulder fondly. “I’m due back on Earth just before Valentine’s Day, so-”

Barry’s eyes lit up with a knowing look. “You’ll be busy, got it.”

“Not for the whole visit,” Dick said, rolling his eyes. “We’ll call you.”

Hal snickered as Barry zipped away, vanishing through the sliding doors the second they opened for him. The rest of the League had begun to disperse, leaving only straggling groups that were too busy talking to head home. Dick caught Bruce’s eye from across the room, and there was a slight hint of a smile visible under the eyes of the cowl. Before now, Dick would have expected Bruce to be hurrying him and Damian back to the teleporter, but it seemed like Bruce was content to linger with Clark and Diana for a little bit longer just to give him some more time with Hal.

He tugged Hal over to one of the wide windows, away from the rest of the League. Hal settled in with his shoulder against the glass, and Dick mirrored him, tangling his fingers together in the gap between them. “So,” Hal said, tilting his head with a smile, “were you deliberately trying to get me alone, or…?”

“Excuse me for wanting a minute with you before you head back to Oa,” Dick teased, squeezing Hal’s fingers. “How’s the trip been?”

“Not bad,” Hal admitted, thumbing the side of Dick’s hand. “I miss you, obviously. But hey, after this, I’ll have more time whenever I visit.”

Dick grinned at him. “Two whole months with you? I don’t know what I’m gonna do with myself.”

“Well, hopefully not much with  _ just _ yourself,” Hal said meaningfully, and Dick tipped his head back with a full-bodied laugh. “You know,” Hal continued, beaming as Dick continued to snicker, “with it being Valentine’s Day soon and all, you’ll do stuff with me, too.”

“God,” Dick snorted, “Barry was right. You’re fucking shameless.”

“No,” Hal corrected, giggling,  _ “you’re _ fucking shameless. It’s me,  _ I’m _ shameless.”

Dick leaned back against the window as another bout of laughter took him, and when Hal settled in next to him, he squeezed his hand again. He was sure that he could feel other League members watching, but it didn’t matter, not now; he had this stolen moment with Hal, and then when he came back again, he’d have two glorious months to spend with him, where they’d have all the time in the world as Hal patrolled this particular sector of the galaxy. With a little more distance from Oa granted, it gave them much more room to actually enjoy their relationship without Hal having to sacrifice much at all.

Footsteps drew Dick’s attention. Damian trotted over, folding his arms across his chest as he arched an eyebrow at them. “Lantern,” he greeted. “Nightwing.”

“Hey,” Hal said, waving his free hand. “How’s it goin’?”

Damian’s lips pursed. “Fine. Nightwing, we need to head home. Are you coming, or do I need to drag you there myself?”

“Right behind you,” Dick promised, reaching out to ruffle his hair. Damian slapped at his hand with a growl, and Dick ignored him. “Go catch up with Batman, I’ll be there in a sec. Let me just say goodbye to Hal.”

His youngest brother looked unimpressed, but he dismissed them with a huff and headed back over to Bruce’s side. He didn’t quite fold himself into their father’s cape as he settled in against his side, but it was a near thing; when Bruce tucked an edge of it around Damian, he didn’t shrug it off for once. Dick figured it was because the Teen Titans had already left, shepherded along by Kori not long after the meeting had finished.

Dick sighed as he turned to face Hal. “Sorry.”

“It’s fine.” Hal’s smile gentled, turning into something sweeter and warmer. “I’ll see you in a couple of weeks anyway.”

He pulled Dick in just so he could peck his cheek in full view of whoever was left. It sent a thrill through Dick’s chest, leaving his heart hammering against his ribs with pure delight; now that they were actually official, they had both been freer with their physical affection without crossing too far into the realm of PDA. Dick knew exactly how it felt to sink into Hal’s side without worrying about the expiration date, and it was  _ glorious. _

He did, however, turn to catch Hal’s lips with his own, just for a quick moment. “See you in a couple of weeks,” he said, reluctantly releasing Hal’s hand. “Have a safe trip back.”

“You, too,” Hal replied, lazily folding his arms across his chest.

As Dick caught up with Bruce and Damian, he glanced back, and his breath hitched in his chest: Hal looked beautiful there, backlit by the stars circling around the Watchtower as he casually rested against the window. He was always effortlessly handsome, but there was something about this that  _ stuck _ with Dick. He wished he had his phone on him, just so he could snap a picture of it. 

Then again, he supposed his mask’s footage would do. He could grab a still from it later, once they were home.

Bruce offered him a small, private smile as they stepped out into the corridor. “How is he?”

“Good,” Dick said, falling into step beside him. “He’ll be back on Earth in a couple of weeks, actually.”

“Already?”

“Yep. Sounds like the Guardians were actually a little flexible for once.”

Bruce hummed an agreeable sort of noise as he tapped their coordinates into the computer. “Well, he knows he’s welcome to drop by for as long as he wants.”

Damian scowled at their father’s back. “As long as he doesn’t steal Titus again, you mean.”

“I told you Titus was a lapdog, Dami,” Dick said, tucking Damian into his side as they mounted the couple of steps to the platform. “He likes anyone as long as they give them enough treats.”

Damian stilled. “Jordan’s been feeding him  _ treats?” _

“You can’t prove anything,” Dick replied immediately, wincing. 

Bruce coughed politely to cover up a laugh as he joined them. “He’ll find a way to prove it,” he murmured, smiling. “I’m sure we can tempt Hal into staying anyway with some of Jim’s cooking.”

* * *

Hal had planned Valentine’s Day  _ way _ ahead of time. 

He knew exactly where he wanted to take Dick, and just what he wanted to do. For someone who didn’t often look before he leapt, he had done a remarkable amount of thinking this time around, just to make sure they started off their new relationship right. Really, he was pretty pleased with himself, if he was completely honest; he just hoped that it was the right move to make.

His return to Earth fell on the exact day itself. After a quick detour to his own apartment to grab a change of clothes and his card, Hal swooped down towards the great hulking shape of Wayne Manor, isolated away from the rest of Gotham. It wasn’t so intimidating now in the early light of the morning; it just seemed like a big, ancient house, with just a few glimmering windows to let him know that there was life inside. 

Dick’s window was one of those.

Hal fell into an easy glide, dipping low enough to bring himself level with it. The curtains were drawn, but there was a slight gap, just enough for him to peek through; Dick was on the edge of his bed with his back to Hal, fiddling with something that he couldn’t see. As Hal watched, Dick lifted his wrist and glanced down at what was, Hal realised, the communicator.

The matching one on his wrist pinged. 

_ What time are you getting back? _

Grinning, Hal rapped his knuckles on the glass.

Dick twisted where he sat, already smiling. Hal saw his lips form the shape of his laughter, and then Dick was sliding across the covers to get to the other side and open the window for him. 

He didn’t even give Hal a chance to greet him before he pulled him in for a kiss. Hal hovered halfway through the window, his hands smoothly coming up to cup Dick’s cheeks, and he let Dick walk them backwards into his room, out of the bitterly cold February air. His heart thudded in his chest, slow and steady and relaxed now that he was back home.

“Asshole,” Dick said fondly when they parted. 

“Surprise,” Hal replied, smirking. He let himself drift upright, and then let his feet touch down on Dick’s carpet. His uniform fizzled away, and Hal beamed at Dick’s quiet, surprise inhale; Hal had made a bit of an effort for this date, deliberately picking out a buttoned shirt and one of his nicer pairs of jeans. Clearly, it was already working for him, if the way Dick’s hands landed on his biceps was anything to judge by. “I didn’t wanna keep you waiting, so I figured I’d just drop by.”

Dick leaned in to kiss him again, giving him a quick peck on the corner of his mouth. “You know, you’re surprisingly sweet sometimes,” he teased as he moved away. Hal immediately missed having him in his space, but Dick wasn’t gone for long. He grabbed something off of his bed and offered it to him. “Happy Valentine’s Day.”

“Happy Valentine’s Day,” Hal echoed, passing his own card over to Dick. He felt a brief little self-conscious twinge at the lack of a gift attached to the envelope he’d handed over, but hopefully, his plan for the day would count. “What’s this?” he asked, plucking at the wrapping paper around whatever Dick had taped to his card.

There was a sly smile on Dick’s face as he sat on the edge of his bed. “Open it and find out.”

The card itself was sweet and funny - the heartfelt message inside that Dick had handwritten made his heart soar - and when Hal sat next to him and opened the gift, his throat briefly closed up. It was a necklace, one that had a cord not unlike Dick’s Christmas gift, and there was a locket in the middle. When Hal pressed on the latch to open it, he found a tiny little picture of them both inside. 

“Dick,” he breathed, thumbing over the photo, “this is  _ awesome. _ Thank you.” 

Dick’s chin landed on his shoulder. He was so, so warm against Hal’s side. “It’s so you don’t have to keep that one folded in your wallet,” he said playfully. “You can have this instead. It matches mine.”

Hal glanced over at him, and there was indeed a little pink glow under Dick’s shirt. He’d never expected him to actually wear the necklace as much as he did, but Hal found himself surprisingly delighted to see it there. It was a gentle, comforting reminder of Dick’s affection for him, and when Hal leaned in to kiss him, bright pink light pressed against his eyelids.

“You should open yours,” Hal murmured against his lips.

Dick laughed quietly into the kiss. “Alright.” He withdrew just enough to look down at the envelope in his lap as he opened it up.

Two tickets fell into his lap. Hal leaned back on his hands, grinning, as Dick picked them up. “It’s for the aquarium,” Hal said, tilting his head to look at them over Dick’s shoulder. “I booked in advance. I figured we could go to that diner where we had our first date and grab a bite to eat, catch a movie, go to the aquarium, and then head back to mine.”

He did his very best not to shift when Dick looked up at him. He could hear the cogs turning in that beautiful brain of his, and he knew that Dick was putting the pieces together. “Our first three dates,” he said. “That’s exactly what we did for our first three dates.”

“Yep.” Hal felt how hesitant his smile was. He really hoped this wasn’t a misstep; maybe Dick just wanted to forget the longing of that first year and just… move on and pretend it had never existed, but Hal wasn’t sure that he could do that. “I thought we could… I don’t know, not  _ redo _ them, but revisit? And this time I won’t have to leave in the morning.” He swallowed hard. “I’ll even get you another giant stuffed animal. I think your turtle’s getting lonely.”

The glow of Dick’s necklace was blinding. “I’d  _ love _ to, Hal,” he said, his smile almost as bright as the light under his shirt. He found Hal’s hand so he could tangle their fingers together. “When can we start?”

“Well, unless you wanna get burgers for breakfast, we should probably wait,” Hal teased. “You got any plans before lunch?”

Something flickered across Dick’s face, something that made Hal’s stomach flip with interest. “Well,” Dick said, picking up their cards to set them on his bedside table, “we could always celebrate you coming home now, and then Valentine’s Day  _ later.” _

Hal’s mouth went dry. He’d missed Dick in all ways, and while they’d certainly got their use out of the communicators’ projections, it hadn’t quite made up for the distance entirely. “Sold.”

Dick laughed as he slid into Hal’s lap, and Hal found himself laughing with him as they tumbled back onto the mattress.

* * *

It was there, in the peace and quiet of Hal’s apartment, that he first told Dick he loved him. 

The bedroom was dark except for the glow of the moon and the dots of the stars in the picture frame of the window, and Dick looked absolutely radiant in the low light. Hal traced his fingers across Dick’s stomach, listened to the beat of Dick’s heart with the ear pillowed on his chest, and when Dick’s hand came up to cradle the back of his head, Hal closed his eyes and told him.

Dick didn’t miss a beat. He pressed the words into Hal’s hair and sealed them in with a kiss. 

Hal told him again the next morning and all of the ones that followed, and again just before he left for Oa. When he returned, bruised but whole, he told Dick all over again, as if he hadn’t texted him to tell him every night. Sometimes, Dick beat him to the punch, and Hal’s heart fluttered whenever he saw the same curve of Dick’s smile right before he said it. And, in those rare times that they missed each other entirely thanks to their jobs, they each had a reminder pressed against their sternum, tucked away like a secret.

In the end, the cycle of Earth and Oa didn’t seem as difficult as it had once upon a time. The distance was easier when Dick was there waiting in his window or Hal’s own apartment, after he’d given him the key; and sometimes, Hal was the one to welcome Dick home after a long patrol, waving goodnight to Bruce as he vanished down the corridor to his own wing of the manor. He didn’t feel so out of place when Alfred invited him to sit down for a cup of tea while they stayed up to greet everyone as they came home from patrol. From time to time, Alfred would greet Hal too when he helped out in Gotham.

In hindsight, Hal wasn’t sure what he’d been so worried about. There were scrapes in space and on Earth in equal measure, trouble that Dick couldn’t help him with and things where he was simply too far to intervene on Dick’s behalf, and while Hal would drag Dick down into bed with him to kiss over those scratches he’d been unable to save him from, it was worth every second of heartache for the weeks, months,  _ years _ he got to spend in Dick’s company.

Funny, how giving Dick his number had turned into this. Hal had never thought he’d end up so tied down to Earth again, not after he’d started living amongst the stars, but now, whenever he soared away from Oa, he looked forward to going home.

**Author's Note:**

> Reminder: do not interact if you ship incest.
> 
> Edit: Comments are now moderated since incest shippers kept commenting! If you don't ship incest, comment whatever you like and it'll be approved. Incest shippers (for clarification, mainly people who have Batcest in their works or bookmarks but this does include other fandoms as well if I spot it), I asked you to not to interact and you decided to ignore that. Anything you comment will be rejected, I'm not interested in having you anywhere near my fic.


End file.
